


Three's Company

by ivanattempts, taggianto



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Multi, Multiple Personalities
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-03
Updated: 2013-07-14
Packaged: 2017-12-13 19:51:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 20
Words: 82,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/828189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivanattempts/pseuds/ivanattempts, https://archiveofourown.org/users/taggianto/pseuds/taggianto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>**This is not a fic - this is a straight-up RP log that several of my twitter followers expressed interest in reading. It has been edited for typos and grammatical mistakes.**</p>
<p>Jim Moriarty has a new job - and Richard's none too happy with the arrangements. His attitude starts to change, however, when they meet with Jim's new little helper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction, World Building

_taggianto: so you wanted to do Jim, possibly darkish, I can be Sebastian. Pre relationship? Where do you want to start?_

_Ivanattempts: Mentally unstable Jim/Richard with possible DID, or something similar, so probably darkish, depending on which personality's about, mhmn. Pre-relationship would likely be best, yeah. Hmmn...Dunno. How should they meet, do you think?_

_taggianto: So you're assuming Jim/Richard isn't a result of Reich, just a part of Jim himself?_

_Ivanattempts: Mhmn, unless you're wanting it to be some playoff of Jim shooting himself? Which is fine too, if you'd prefer. I was tossing the idea around with John the other night, and he and I came up with the line of thought of Richard being real-and Jim truly being an invented personality, but not simply made up for Reich, like he claimed._

_taggianto: it's doesn't have to be a play on the shooting, that's just how it usually goes :3 I'm down with that. Should we start right at the beginning then, whenever Jim hires Sebastian?_

_Ivanattempts: Sure; questions, though! (AKA, Ivan talks headcanons to death before beginning RPs so as to not make an ass of himself.) If we're playing off the personality thing, then we'd be assuming Sherlock genuinely did hire Richard, yes? Or that Jim was causing mischief for him, and did it on his own for kicks, and then just offers Richard a way out by blaming it on Sherlock? If Jim was a developed personality, it would most likely stem from some form of trauma in Richard's past, which could have led to him developing someone he thought of as stronger than himself to protect him-thus we would have Jim, the one who can play with the big boys, and Richard, who probably wouldn't hurt a mouse even if it was carrying the second wave of the plague. And if Jim is purely developed, and they were hired by Sherlock, then Jim would be hiring Sebastian after speaking with Sherlock, right?_

_taggianto: sounds like a perfectly sound headcanon to me. So, very dark, cuz we're even pulling dark!Sherlock into it :3 Just promise me one thing: no Major Character Death. That's not how I roll XD I don't have as concrete a headcanon for Sebastian - I have ideas and feelings, and usually just let the RP dictate which Seb comes out (i have several. ahhh i'm insane.) Obviously, this won't be crescendo!Sebastian XD So Sebastian probably won't see Richard for a while, considering he'll be working for Jim who is working for Sherlock. Will Sebastian know about Jim working for Sherlock? I kinda think not._

_Ivanattempts: Oh God no, I'd cry like a baby over character death, so no worries there. But yes, likely to take some very dark turns. And yes-Sebastian will be most acquainted with Jim, not Richard, who will take a back seat unless he becomes aware of what's going on, and highly objects to something-he's assuming that while the work is questionable, it's not really /dangerous/, so he won't be upset about it until he realizes otherwise, which will likely lead to some breaks. There'll probably be some talking to himself, etc. And Sebastian probably won't know about Jim working for Sherlock, no-Jim likes the illusion of being just as powerful as he seems, so he won't want to upset that illusion at all._


	2. Meet and Greet

**Ivanattempts:**

"I'm not so sure about this..." Breathed out, a bit of an uncertain sigh as the suit was being adjusted, tie twitched into place with skillful fingers, cuffs fixed, lines pressed and smoothed. In the mirror, the man stood, expression briefly worried, before melting into something much closer to annoyance, exasperation.

"C'mon, Richie boy. Haven't I always taken care of you?" The anxiety was smoothed over with a slow, curling drawl, akin to a purr, but not nearly as comforting. "It's just a game." A soft reminder, and that did seem to soothe the other, and for the moment, as Jim looked up, he was alone in the mirror, turning this way and that, inspecting himself with a critical eye. The suit had been a...gift, of sorts, from his employer. Richard never would have been able to afford such a fine outfit on his feeble salary, much less so lately, when the work had been low-paying and slow in coming, with long stretches between. They could barely afford _food_ , the roof over their heads. New clothes? As if.

Still, an actor must look his part, with no expense spared; the thought sent his lips curling into a grin, and with a merry whistle, he was grabbing his phone, slipping on his shoes, out of the miserable hovel of a flat they lived in, and bouncing out onto the street, feet tuning him where he needed to go. A glance at the time, and his gait slowed - luckily, Richard's fussing had not set him back, and he would arrive at his 'date' right on time. "Sebastian Moran." His lips shaped the name for the hundredth time, tasting it, liking the way it fell from his lips - it had a natural sound to it by now, after so many repetitions, as if he'd known the man all his life. He knew everything he needed to know, at least - his face, his name, military career, and every other scrap of information that had the man's name attached to it. Oh, the perks of being involved with people in high places - or, rather, involved with people who knew people in high places.  And he couldn't deny he was excited; Richard hadn't even looked for his pills this morning, knew he needed Jim, and that was a rare occurrence indeed, these days. It was a good thing, too - Jim was running out of creative places to hide those pills. Maybe it would happen more often...? Oh, what fun this was all turning out to be!

**taggianto:**

Bland. Colorless. Empty. Dead.

Sebastian flicked his gaze around the small London hotel room he’d been calling – well, not _home_ per say, but maybe “shelter” was a better word – for the last two weeks. Everything was dull, with that dingy film that comes from a housekeeping staff that was beyond jaded and simply didn’t see the point anymore. But still. It was cheap, it was discreet, and it was conveniently located. For business, of course. A grisly job in Southwark that didn’t pay nearly enough for the work involved, a string of low-profile stints as the brawn behind a gang’s negotiations, and now this. A letter – of all things – addressed to Colonel Sebastian Moran, Room 213, 4 Crestfield Street, London WC1H 8AT. Funny, seeing as he was staying under the name Von Herder at the hotel. The manager had been very confused and had – initially – refused to hand over the letter, but a few well-timed threats on Sebastian’s part soon cleared the matter up. It was a thick, posh envelope containing a single piece of thick, posh paper with a very brief typewritten message (that somehow still managed to be posh). “You must be so bored. The Criterion. Monday. 8:00. Bring your gun.” It was signed XXX in very flourished penmanship. Normally Sebastian wouldn’t be one for such vague messages, smoke and mirrors tended to complicate things when your business was murder, but he couldn’t deny that he. Was. Bored. And a little mystery just might be what the doctor ordered.

Sliding his 9mm Browning into the back waistband of his jeans, Sebastian hid the grip of the gun beneath his worn leather jacket and made his way out of the room and the hotel. Once on the street, he checked the directions once again on his mobile – the Criterion was only a two mile walk from here, and it was a nice enough night. Besides, cabs cost money, which, despite having recently completely two decent jobs, Sebastian was still exceedingly short on. He stowed the mobile in his pocket and started walking.

**Ivanattempts:**

Ahh, the Criterion. Fine dining, much more to his tastes than the pathetic excuses for restaurants that he and Richard ordinarily frequented - all they could afford, he knew, but that didn't make him any more agreeable to it. If the man would just listen to him from time to time, perhaps they wouldn't wind up in straits like this. All the same, there were no complaints to be had this time - this particular employer had deep pockets and knew what he wanted; and why ever should he complain when someone made his job easy for him? And pampered him during it? No, no, Jim was no idiot. He had not waited for the man - why should he? Upon arriving at the restaurant, he had given his name and promptly been escorted inside, treated as if he were a regular to this place, a building he'd never actually set foot in before. How accommodating. At the table, he waited just a touch impatiently, fingertips drumming against the tabletop as he savored a glass of wine - red.

At length, a waiter came by to inform him that the other member of his party had arrived - and it was about time too. He'd been insufferably bored, watching the other people in this place, the way they mindlessly chattered, thoughtless compliments passed carelessly from person to person, words that didn't mean a thing, likely not even meant. What a terrible life to lead. "Escort him here, won't you?" A slow smile at the waiter, and it was clear it wasn't a request - when the man left, he didn't turn, didn't look for the man. He knew the face almost as well as he knew his own at this point, needn't go looking for him - he'd recognize him immediately. No need to cause a fuss. Another slow sip from his wine glass, much more patient, much more content now that what he had been waiting for was within reach; his fingers held the glass delicately, turning it to admire it in the light, the way the glow shimmered through the wine. Sherlock had better be careful; a man could get used to this sort of treatment.

**taggianto:**

Thirty seven minutes (and several near misses from cabs while crossing the streets of London) later, Sebastian was standing outside the white brick building, only five minutes past the 8:00 mandate on the letter in his pocket. It was always best to be a little late. Too early, and you seemed eager. Too late, though, and you'd probably end up out of a job. Five minutes was plenty enough. He pushed through the heavy wooden doors and entered the restaurant. His first thought was that whoever had sent the letter had better be paying for this meal (if there was one) because he sure as fuck wasn't going to foot the bill in a place this posh. Red velvet chairs, thick turquoise drapes with golden tassels and a grand piano nestled in one corner with a man in the most ridiculous tuxedo he'd ever seen in his life quietly plunking out Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. I mean, the booth tables had their own _pillows_ , for fuck's sake. Sebastian was a bit uneasy. He was used to meetings in dive bars and back alleys and basements where the air was scented with sweat and stale beer, not sweet wine and sodding roses.

He stopped by the podium behind which stood, undoubtedly, the Maître d'hôtel. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by the tall, wiry stick of a man. "Ah, Colonel Moran," he was saying, "We have been expecting you. I will just inform your host that you have indeed arrived." Wait, what? How the... Sebastian simply nodded and stood awkwardly in the foyer, feeling incredibly out of place in his ratty jacket and jeans that probably still had a bit of mud splashed across the ankles. Eventually a waiter returned to show him to his host. Sebastian's eyes roamed around the room as he was escorted - bloody hell, was that a gold plated ceiling? - and almost didn't notice when the waiter stopped and gestured with a slight bow to a private table near a large mirror. Sebastian nodded to the waiter, who quickly scurried away, and finally got a good look at his mystery penpal. Small. Soft hands. Prissy suit. Moneyed, obviously, to be meeting in this place. In short, not exactly terrifying. He slid into the opposite seat and waited for whatever was going on here to start.

**Ivanattempts:**

Perfect.

It was the first word that leapt to mind when he saw the man in person; perfect. Striking, the sharp lines of his face drawing the eye, the cut of his jaw, the curve of his lips. Sharp eyes too, keen, observant and wary - good, very good. Underdressed to an extreme, drawing condescending looks all around - not that Jim minded, not in the least, absolutely giddy in the private knowledge that he didn't belong here either, not really. Colonel Sebastian Moran - he could see the military in him, the way he held and carried himself; and oh, he knew the man didn't think much of him. Not yet, at least. He would change that, oh yes. But that could wait - for now, introductions still needed to be made! "Sebastian." A slow smile as the man joined him, and he dismissed the waiter with a flick of his wrist, not even sparing him a glance; no, his eyes were for the soldier, and the soldier alone for the moment. The name was muttered almost affectionately, as if the two had been friends for years, very close friends. As if they'd known each other forever. "A pleasure to meet you in person, finally, Colonel." A pleasantry offered with an almost sickly sweet smile.

It took a force of will to keep himself from leaning forward in his excitement, and instead took a moment to glance at his wine, settling it lightly on the table once more with an almost disappointed sigh. "A decent year, but not stellar." His arms were folding, and he was relaxing back in his chair, head tipped to the side, continuing to look the other man over - really, there was something he liked about him. Perhaps it was just what he saw in him, what he knew he had done and could do. "Would you like something?" An almost absent question, and another sweet smile. "My treat, of course." Because oh, he knew the man couldn't afford this place, and he wanted the other to know he knew - because he knew a lot about the man, more than was on public record, more than he should. Much more than he should. And what did he care in paying for the man's meal? It wasn't as if it were really his money anyway. Let Sherlock pick up the tab. Oh, yes. He could get used to this. "Anything you like."

**taggianto:**

A curt nod was the only acknowledgement Sebastian gave to the man practically purring his name. Something about him seemed... off. Sebastian was wary, but he would be damned (well, more than he already was) if he let any of it show on his face or in his mannerisms.

"Anything I'd like?" He repeated, gruff voice so very out of place in this fortress of gilded forks and peace lilies. "Why don't we start with a name? Who the hell are you?"

**Ivanattempts:**

Oh, but that drew a quirk of an eyebrow, attention centering on the soldier. Ah, yes. Such a minor detail. Why, he already knew so much about the man, he was rather disappointed to know the man didn't already know him. But, such was to be expected. A little sigh left him, as if the question were a tedious one; and very suddenly, the smaller man was all business, straightening, eyes sharp and expression serious. "Moriarty. James Moriarty. But you, my dear, may call me Jim, for brevity's sake." Idly, and with a single finger, he pushed a menu towards the Colonel. "I suppose first name basis is only appropriate, considering the circumstances." Or, the soon-to-be circumstances, as the case may be.

Still, the man's tone had him tutting, tongue clicking softly. "Down, boy. Order something, enjoy yourself. No need to be hostile on the night your life is going to change." Because things were changing, oh yes - for Sherlock, and for himself, and for Sebastian, if the man joined in.

**taggianto:**

Moriarty? Now that name had him arching an eyebrow, despite his best attempts to remain stoic. He'd heard... rumors. Interesting. Wait, _down, boy_? What the hell? A small flash of anger rose in Sebastian's throat by instinct, the hairs on his neck practically prickling, but he quickly brought himself back under control. So the prissy little fuck liked to play mind games. Too bad words wouldn't rip a hole in someone's head like a 9mm bullet could - Sebastian was still confident that he had the upper hand here.

He took the offered menu though. No point in giving up a free meal. He flipped immediately to the grill section. Steak. God, he hadn't had a proper steak in ages. Now, did he go for the larger rib eye or the more expensive Hereford filet? "So. Jim, then," he said as he ran his eyes over the menu. "I'm assuming this is a business meeting, so you can bin the 'life changing' shit. Seems you already know quite a bit about me, so you know there's not much I'm opposed to doing, if the price is right." He brought his pale, icy eyes up to meet the darkened ones across the table. "Now what is this all truly about?" The waiter came by at that moment and Sebastian ordered the filet, sautéed potatoes for a side. Best be getting his host's money's worth.

**Ivanattempts:**

Oh, _good_. So the name struck a chord with him - he had been rather hoping that had already been taken care of. Good, good. And that anger, that quick flash, the way the man bristled at the words - absolutely delightful. Predictable, perhaps, but he _had_ been looking for it, after all. As the man took the menu, Jim smiled, and the answers were bounced back as quickly as the questions were asked. "Business? Mn, yes, we'll get to that." That was the main event, of course, but he was rather interested in the man himself, more than his capabilities. Sebastian _would_ work with him, that much was guaranteed; one way or another, he would have him. This man was the best of the best, and whatever it took, Jim would have him. As the waiter came 'round, he ordered the sea bass, and had the man top off his wine.

When they were alone again, he hummed softly and turned those dark eyes back to the man sitting across from him, lightly bringing his elbows to rest upon the edge of the table, fingers interlacing. "What is this truly about? I thought that was obvious. I'm offering you a job. Well," he corrected himself mildly, chuckling softly. "No, not a job. A _position_." One hand slipped to his wine glass, fingertip sliding around the rim slowly. "I'm looking to hire you on, if you're inclined to...steady work." His eyes slipped along the man's apparel - no doubt he'd had long stretches without jobs, hard times; the offer was a good one. "You'll get a steady salary, and a bonus if I ask something special of you." Whatever those special requests might be, he did not offer, merely leaning back to regard the man with an unreadable look; it would be pure idiocy to turn him down, really, but he supposed there always was the chance.

**taggianto:**

Sebastian brought his glass of water to his lips as Jim spoke (he never drank during negotiations - he'd learned that lesson the hard way, had the five inch scar on his side to prove it), finding the man's (posh, obviously) Irish accent to be somewhat hypnotic. It was simultaneously soothing and disturbing and Sebastian found himself more than a little intrigued.

The mention of regular income certainly helped to pique his interest.

"So basically you want me as your call boy," he said when Jim had finished. Jim. James. Such a common name for someone that was, so far, turning out to be anything but common. A man who held himself with nothing but pure confidence, a man who had dared to call him 'dear' when he knew he was certainly armed, a man who knew himself to be at the top of the food chain. But where did that place Sebastian in the grand scheme of things here? "I'm not so easily bought," he said as their meals arrived.

**Ivanattempts:**

"Not so easily bought, but you'll do anything for the right price? Now, now, someone is playing hard to get." Amused, thoroughly so; yes, he liked this man already. He had spirit, and that was something Jim could admire. There was time for fun now - this was all a game, a little dance. He had him; he'd had him from the moment he assured steady income. The man was just looking for the right number, and whatever it was, Jim would pay it, because every man had a number - and this man would be worth his. As their meal arrived, he smiled at the man in front of the waiter. "No need to be shy, darling. I take very good care of my men." And he saw it, the flush go up the waiter's neck before he scurried away, and that was exactly what he had wanted, and it left him smirking.

"Bodyguard. As your official title, anyway." An informative statement, as if the man had already accepted. Despite not having eaten in a day or so - it was hard to remember at times, especially if Richard was about for long - he was slow in lifting his silverware, mindful of his etiquette; and when he ate, it was to savor, not to fill, tasting the food, really enjoying it. His lashes slipped down for the briefest of moments, as if he'd never put something more delicious in his mouth in all his days - and he very well might not have, though there was no need for the other to know that. Once the bite was down, he took a sip of his wine, and glanced to the other man once more, and oh, he'd already won, and he knew it; he was a cat with all the cream, a child finally tall enough to reach the cookie jar.

**taggianto:**

He shot a glare across to Jim at the obvious double-entendre meant for the waiter. Mind games again. Oh this was going to be interesting (Sebastian didn't even noticed that he'd already more or less mentally signed himself up for this). He felt a sly smile threatening to work its way onto a corner of his mouth but he didn't let it show. Instead, he applied himself to the frankly gorgeous piece of meat on his plate. After a slightly confused glance at his silverware - seriously, who the fuck needed five different types of fork? - he grabbed the most 'normal' looking one he could find and cut into the perfectly cooked (rare, very rare) filet with the steak knife provided. The slight resistance of the muscle, the flow of warm blood from the cut, the smell of flesh and fire and damn, if that wasn't the best steak he'd tasted in his life.

"Bodyguard," Sebastian repeated after he'd swallowed (fuck, it was so good) a few bites and washed it down with ice water. "Generic enough. And you certainly seem like a guy who could use protection." There, he allowed the grin as he swept his eyes from the manicured hands to the quality suit to the hair with nary a strand out of place. _You might think yourself king, but not even royalty is impervious to the slice of a blade. Or a bullet._ "Tell me more." It wasn't an acceptance, no, not yet. Never agree to anything before you knew exactly what it would entail. Another lesson painfully learned.

_Ivanattempts: (I have to take a moment to say these two ARE THE FUCKING SASSIEST.)_

_taggianto: (( YES. YES I LOVE THE SNARK AND SASS. ))_

**Ivanattempts:**

Oh, Sebastian might not know it yet, but Jim did - the subtle muscle movement beneath his skin that spoke of the grin he refused to show. The battle was won already, and Jim was the victor. The second bite went down just as smoothly as the first, and he chuckled softly as the soldier picked a fork - the wrong fork, he didn't bother to point out. His eyes lingered on the other man's meal, the blood dripping from it - and that had his pulse spiking, though his expression didn't change. There really was something... animalistic about the man, absolutely primal, and Jim was fond of that already. He was a starved animal, used to scraps, and being fed steak - and it could happen more often, if he just consented to a collar. Not that his consent was at all necessary, really. Just preferable.

"Oh, you are an observant one." Sarcastic; why would he need a bodyguard lest he needed protection? A ridiculous statement. Still, he wasn't angry with the man for stating the obvious, just pointing it out. "Come now, pet, must we discuss business over dinner? The two sit poorly together."Details. You know your work, as do I - and given that I know your work and asked for you specifically, you surely are not so dull as to be incapable of completing the equation." There was a sharper edge to his tone now, less playful, and his tone and demeanor made it clear he had earned those rumors attached to his name - even if he hadn't, yet. "And if you are, then I shall be sorely disappointed, and take my business elsewhere."

**taggianto:**

"Pet?" Sebastian asked with an expression that clearly said, _are you fucking serious?_ But he let it go. Obviously the man was attempting to get under his skin with various names, subtly attempting to assert his dominance. Sebastian had been in the army. Name calling was hardly the most effective way to win him over. Or under. Or whichever direction this was going.

"You're the one who wanted to meet here," he pointed out instead. "My sincerest apologies for presuming that you'd actually want to discuss business." His tone made it clear that there were no actual apologies being made, and even if there had been, they certainly would not have been sincere. "Either way. I'm not signing on to anything until I've got the whole picture." _The devil's in the details,_ he thought to himself. He finished his last bite of steak and sat back, arms crossed, belly full, sated. If he had been capable, he probably would have been purring.

**Ivanattempts:**

 Ding, ding. He had a winner.

Jim had been wondering which name would finally pull the protest out; pet it was then, and pet he would be. And oh, what attitude! Jim couldn't resist a little laugh - still, the pressing of the matter was good. Anything less would have had him agreeing to a lot more than necessary, and the man would have shoved it in his face just for the hell of it. "I thought I would throw you a bone." A little gesture at the man's emptied plate, a slow smirk. All the same, he was settling back, sipping at his wine; his own food was perhaps two-thirds finished, and would remain that way. He never ate very heavily, and this was already more than he had eaten in a while. A shame - the food was good, but he never had been one to overfill himself.

"You're a military man, Seb. You've taken orders before. That's all I'm asking now, and for a fair price higher than what Queen and country offered you." The man's tone was placating, smooth; everything in this matter was negotiable, accept for Sebastian's obedience and loyalty. Those must be unwavering. "You, pet, are a tamed tiger, and I expect you to behave as one. I've no need for an unruly housecat." And oh, but wasn't that the truth of it? And if the man wasn't tamed yet, he soon would be. Jim would see to that. "Most of the work will be fairly mundane. You might even get bored while earning your salary. But I assure you that your skills will not go to waste." Because what fun was a well-paying job if one remained bored through it? "You'll earn your pay, and I imagine you'll enjoy it."

**taggianto:**

The animal metaphors were coming fast and thick now, but Sebastian did his best to ignore them. The use of Tiger had him pausing though. Surely he couldn't know about that... could he? He shook his head slightly. No, of course not. Just a coincidence, he could have just as easily said Jaguar or Cheetah or Lion. A metaphor, a heavy-handed one for certain, but a metaphor nonetheless.

"Alright, I'm interested. But don't take that as anything more than that. I'm not agreeing to your little games just yet." Sebastian's right hand tapped subconsciously against his leg. Fuck, he needed a cigarette. And some whiskey. Or something stronger, perhaps of the female persuasion. The atmosphere here was too tense, too stuffy, too... constricting. He glanced at the time on his mobile. Fuck, it was getting late. He had that Heathrow thing in the morning and he really needed to be getting ready for that right now. "Obviously you know how to get in contact with me, though I won't ask how the fuck you managed that. Either way. Let me know when you want to meet to go over details, I've got to run." Sebastian pushed his chair back from the table and started to stand.

**Ivanattempts:**

Whether Jim knew or not hardly mattered; the knowing look on his face was enough to make anyone second-guess the fact that there was anything in the world he might not know, lips curved up, eyes dark, so very dark. There was no surprise at all when the man confessed interest; anything else would have been surprising, honestly. "Whatever you say, pet." Because oh, he'd agreed already, really. He wouldn't turn it down, not now. The smaller man was leaning back, pulling his glass forward - and he was reluctant to let the man leave, he found. Didn't want him to go, because, honestly, he was the most interesting man he'd met in ages - aside from Sherlock, but he was so...well, at any rate, he wasn't like Sebastian. Just a stupid man wanting to look otherwise, with a big ego, and a big enough bank account to fuel it. But Sebastian...

"I wouldn't tell you if you did." A little laugh, almost a giggle, honestly, so amused by the words, as if it shouldn't be surprising that he knew at all. And he'd already caught them, the signs of the man's unrest - the subtle tapping of his fingers beneath the table, the tense set of his shoulders. "Cigarettes are bad for you. And do try not to drink yourself to death." Guesses, both of them, but good ones, and he was willing to hazard one more. Sebastian was a man, after all, in every sense of the word. "Oh, and do be careful with the women around here. They're so..." And he wrinkled his nose, shaking his head, but didn't stop the man from standing, merely flashing him a cheeky look. "I'll be in touch, pet."

**taggianto:**

Sebastian narrowed his eyes at Jim's remarks. What. The bloody. Fuck. Was he getting himself into? Could the man _actually_ read minds? Either way, Sebastian needed air, he needed space, needed to get away from the scrutiny of those large, dark brown eyes. Eyes he was certain would haunt his dreams that night.

"Right. Then." Sebastian subtly ran a hand along the back of his jacket to make sure the Browning was still thoroughly hidden as he stood. He wasn't one for formal goodbyes, so he simply nodded at Jim and turned toward the door.

He paused though. "Thanks for the steak," he added as an afterthought before moving his way through the restaurant. He shot a dangerous look or two at a few stuffy patrons that were eyeing him as if he were an urchin off the street, and an altogether different look at a busty little brunette hanging off the edge of a barstool, short skirt leaving little to the imagination. She winked and Sebastian grinned, but he kept moving toward the exit. Maybe another night.

The first thing he did after breaking through the wooden doors into the chill of twilight was to light up and take a good, long drag. Some of the tension of the night melted away, but he was still a bit unnerved. Pull yourself together, Moran. It's just business. You've dealt with creepy fuckers before, he's no different.

Except in all the ways he was.

But Sebastian didn't exactly want to think about that right now, so he pushed it from his mind. Instead, he turned to the left and started the trek back to his sorry excuse for a hotel. There was still work to be done tonight.

**Ivanattempts:**

Oh, that _look_. Yes, he'd pegged him just right, and that look was more than reward enough for the risk of guessing at such things. "Just a bit of friendly concern. Can't have my future employee dying before he gets to do his job." Though Sebastian stood, he, himself, did not move in the slightest, seeming content to stay just where he was; and at the thanks, there was the vaguest turn of his head, the hint of a smirk. "Consider it payment for the pleasure of your company, pet." And with that, Jim had turned his head and paid no more mind to the blond. At length, the waiter came by with the check, and he waved him off impatiently. "Put it on the tab of Sherlock Holmes." The waiter seemed ready to protest, but a single, sharp look had him swallowing, nodding, walking swiftly away - and Jim was standing now, straightening his suit, and walking out without paying a cent.

Outside, he tipped his head and briefly looked up, thoughtful, and hesitated. Where to now? Home would be the natural place to go, and he knew Richard would complain if they didn't. But he didn't want to go home, didn't want to risk the other looking for the pills, didn't want to risk Richard screwing this up with his whining about insanity.

Besides that, he was terribly... curious.

Curiosity was a thing that rarely struck Jim. Richard was often curious about this or that, but it was always about such mundane things. Such _boring_ things. He wanted little to nothing to do with that. But the Colonel, Sebastian - now _that_ he was interested in, and before Richard could protest, his feet were following the same path the other man had taken before him, and before long, he saw the hotel - oh, but he hadn't thought this through too well. What could he do now? Fun as it would be, he doubted he would be welcomed just waltzing up to the man's hotel room door and knocking. A shame, but an understandable one. Instead, he glanced around, at the other buildings about, and...ahh, perfect. An apartment building. Crossing to it, he stayed relatively out of sight, patient, ever so patient, until someone came home, opened the door, and he was thanking them with a winning smile, as if he'd simply forgotten his keys.

Up the stairs then, up, up, because he knew which room Sebastian was in, and soon, he was on the top floor, readying himself to go onto the roof, when - oh, what was that? A name plate removed, a recently vacated occupant in this apartment. His eyes slipped along the empty hallway, and then he was pulling his wallet from his pocket, whistling to himself as, with a flick of his wrist, he got the door open. Wow - he thought that trick had stopped working on doors ages ago. Ah well. He shouldered it closed behind him, locked the door, moved over to the window - yes, the previous occupant was gone, long gone, the place haunted by remnants of whoever they had been, little things they'd left behind. For now, he ignored these things, and moved instead to the window - that was what he wanted to see, after all. A shame he didn't have binoculars.

**taggianto:**

Sebastian pushed the hotel room door closed with one hand, drawing the Browning out with the other. He unloaded the magazine from the pistol before stowing it in the top drawer of the dresser, beneath an old army tshirt. He opened the bottom drawer and pulled something out. It was made of black canvas, rolled into a tube and fastened closed with two silver buckles. Undoing these, Sebastian unrolled the knife case onto the small bed and ran his eyes over the collection. Pulling the Arkansas stone sharpener from its pocket in the center, Sebastian started pulling knives from their pockets and testing the edges. He was just rubbing the surface of the stone with a small cloth covered in honing oil when his mobile rang. He checked the name. Niyeva, that idiot. What was he calling about now?

He swiped the screen to answer. "Да?" A nasally voice on the other line sprouted rapid Russian. "Заткнись!" Sebastian barked, causing Niyeva to instantly shut up. Sebastian ran a hand across his forehead in annoyance before continuing. "Что случилось?" He shook his head with a scowl as Niyeva whined. "Нет, четыре. Не семь. Почему вы думаете, семь?" The Russian on the other end of the line started into a long-winded excuse but Sebastian cut him off. "Просто быть там. До свидания." And without allowing Niyeva even a second to start his complaining again, Sebastian ended the call, put the mobile on silent and tossed it into the open drawer in the dresser. Idiot. If he wasn't careful, he was going to get them all killed.

Sebastian sighed as he picked up a third knife. The fun had gone out of the process though, and he just relied on muscle memory to find the right angles to grind the knives. His mind was elsewhere.

Jim Moriarty. The offer. Never having to work with the low-life, back stabbing, clueless thugs he called his clients now ever again. No more worrying that a blunder by the gang leader's second cousin who was just trying to get into the family business would land him in jail. Again.

No more worrying when his next meal would be.

He tested a blade against the pad of one thumb. Razor sharp. Back into the case it went. The others were sharp enough already, so he stowed the case back into the bottom drawer, sans his favorite butterfly knife. The handle was a deep cherry wood, stained dark from years of handling. Flipping it absently open and closed in his right hand, he made his way out onto the small (precarious) balcony of his hotel room. Leaning back against the sliding glass doors, he closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of the city at night. Cars. Horns. Laughter. Shrieks. Muffled music from a late night bar. The swish and flick of the knife in his hands. It could almost be called peaceful.

**Ivanattempts:**

Restless - while it was nice to simply watch the man, he wasn't as close as he would like to be, and he couldn't hear him. Disappointing. Besides those things, the floor was hard and the empty apartment was cold. At length, he stood, going to rummage around. While he hated to lose sight of the man for even a moment, if he were going to be spending any amount of time here, he wanted to be at least semi-comfortable. The hunt was a successful one; he returned with a tattered pillow, and a dusty blanket that had seen better days, and despite himself, he sneezed, shaking his head as he shook it out, cleaned it as best he could, then wrapped it around his own shoulder. Once he came back to settle at the window, it was to see the soldier standing outside - damn, he'd missed him walking out. A shame.

Eager as a child, he was leaning forward, nose nearly pressed to the glass; he probably wouldn't even have noticed what he was doing, had his breath not fogged up the glass. Ugh. Taking a corner of his blanket, he cleaned it, and leaned back a little so as to not repeat the action, reaching up and loosening his tie; those dark eyes were wide now, fully focused on the man nearly directly across from him. And there was something so, so exciting in knowing that Sebastian didn't know he was here - that he could watch him at his leisure, and not worry for even the briefest of moments about the other realizing he was watching him. Perhaps a little further in their acquaintance, he would install cameras in whatever residence the man took up once he had a steady paycheck; he was, after all, ever so much more interesting than whatever was on the telly.

His focus shifted to the way the man held the knife, the way his fingers played with it, moved it about, as it were child's play to do so with such a dangerous instrument. Then to the peaceful look on his face, the relaxed stature he had now, so different from how he had been in the restaurant. There was something very interesting about it, something intriguing in the differences. That curiosity was striking him again, and he was pulling his mobile out, shielding the light from it with the blanket, a grin on his features as he selected the appropriate number, nearly giddy with all that Sherlock had given him on the man. Perfect, absolutely perfect.

_Thinking of me, kitten? With such a look of content, you must be.  
-JM xxx_

The message was sent with something of a giggle, the man stifling his laughter behind a hand. While he appreciated the relaxed look, he was oh so curious about how the words would rile the man up, the guarantee of not being as alone as he thought. Oh, what fun! For good measure, though, he backed slightly away from the window, to make sure he was hidden in the darkness of the apartment, toying with his phone in near-childish excitement, eyes trained on Sebastian, waiting for him to get the message, waiting for him to see it.

**taggianto:**

 Sebastian heard the muffled buzz of his mobile vibrating, but he really, _really_ didn't want to deal with any more of Niyeva's bullshit right now. He stayed on the balcony for a good half an hour, running through the plan for tomorrow, spinning the knife subconsciously with the beat of the nearby nightclub, contemplating heading down there to try and pull some one-night stand (try? that was a laugh. as if he wouldn't be able to succeed). In the end, he decided against it, though. He needed to get _some_ sleep at least before the morning light broke the horizon. With a final flick of the knife, he slipped back inside and closed the door.

A yawn and a scratch and he was bending down to retrieve the phone from the drawer, shuffling into the bathroom. Using one hand to take a piss, he swiped at the mobile screen to check what had caused the alert. One new text message.

He nearly dropped the phone into the toilet in shock.

Jesus fucking Christ. Obviously the guy had no semblance of boundaries or personal space. He hurriedly zipped his pants, checked (triple checked) the locks on the hotel door and grabbed the Browning from the drawer, just in case. Looked like it was going to be another night of sleeping with a loaded gun beneath his pillow. He tried not to dwell on the effect the sudden rush of adrenaline was having on his body.

He crossed to the balcony doors, stuck one arm out, giving his voyeur a very deliberate two finger salute before shutting them and drawing all the blinds and curtains on the windows.


	3. One New Message

**Ivanattempts:**

There was some disappointment in having to wait so long for the man to get the message - he'd hoped he'd get it a lot sooner, he'd wanted to see the actual reaction. Still, he had no shame in watching as the man walked to the bathroom - a shame he couldn't see inside of it from where he sat - and he leaned back, waiting patiently; he'd seen him grab the phone, knew it was only a matter of time now. As for himself, he took the time to stretch a little, yawning himself. What time was it? Ah, what did he care? Oh, and then, there was the man again, checking the locks - that was cute - grabbing his gun - just as cute! - and moving to the door...

Oh, _that_ had Jim nearly howling in laughter, doubled over, hand over his mouth to keep himself from being discovered by the neighbors. Good, good, even better than he'd hoped! It took him a few moments to recover to sit back up, only slightly surprised to see the drawn curtains. Aww - why'd he go and do a thing like that? That sucked. What could he do to entertain himself now? Thoughtfully, he tapped a finger against his lips, shrugging out of his jacket, shifting - and that was when he mobile fell out of his lap, and his eyes landed on it. There was a bit of adrenaline in his own blood, and he was reaching for it, tapping out the next message.

_Naughty, kitten. Doing something Daddy shouldn't see?  
-JM xxx_

And that had him laughing again, and he felt Richard cringe at the lewd implications, but what did he care? Richard could fuss at him about it some other time. This was /his/ job, and that was /his/ pet, and he'd toy with him as he saw fit.

**taggianto:**

A soft blue glow and a buzz from the floor by the bathroom where the mobile had landed in Sebastian's shock. Eyeing it warily, he then made a sound of annoyance before bending to scoop it up. The message had him rolling his eyes. Really, he should just power the whole fucking phone off right and crawl under those thin, ratty blankets and get some sleep because he had to be up before the crack of dawn in order to have time to get to the tube station and ride it all the way out to the docks in time to meet Niyeva... Oh who was he kidding.

_how the hell did you get my number you creepy little fucker_

Sent. Ugh, why did he rise to the bait? Sebastian sat on the bed, leaning back against the headboard, mobile still in his hand, definitely _not_ waiting for a response, absolutely not. So he was being watched. His room, somehow, was being watched. That was... fuck, he did not want to think about what that knowledge was doing to him. Were there cameras hidden somewhere? He did a paranoid sweep of the room with his eyes, but he didn't notice anything suspiciously clean or misplaced. It still made him uneasy, though.

But that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

**Ivanattempts:**

Honestly, he hadn't expected a message back - he'd settled leaning against the window sill, gazing at the curtained door with his head tipped. And if the man hadn't answered, he'd likely have fallen asleep there - but then his mobile went off, and he quickly silenced the tone, setting it to vibrate. He'd forgotten about that - it was some children's show jingle that Richard had put on there. He'd have to download some _proper_ music onto the phone. And oh, he was grinning, because now it was a game - the insult had no sting, no bite to it, because Sebastian had bothered to respond, and if he'd responded once, he'd respond again.

_I thought you wouldn't ask how I got your contact information? And I told you I wouldn't tell if you did. Forgetful; disappointing.  
-JM xxx_

By this point, he was laughing again, delighted as a teenage girl texting her crush - that analogy, naturally, never crossed his mind, and he would have been adverse if it had. Oh, he could just imagine what the other man was doing - likely still holding his phone, he intended to keep answering, Jim was sure. Oh, but that reminded him, and he pouted, firing off another message quickly, before the other could answer him.

_You didn't answer my question.  
-JM xxx_

There. Much better.

**taggianto:**

Sebastian kicked himself. He had said that. The text had just thrown him off. His mobile was an unlisted number, changed roughly every two months. He supposed he'd have to stop underestimating his prospective employer. Obviously, the man had connections... Question? What question... oh. Oh fuck no.

_like i would tell you if i was_

Sent. Fuck. What a twisted nutter. And yet... god, it had been a while, which his body was all too happily letting him know right now. He'd been so busy lately with his jobs... no. No, he was not going to fucking jack off to text messages sent from some crazed psychopath in a suit watching him from God Knows Where because with his luck there _were_ cameras somewhere in this fucking hotel room and fuck WHY was that just turning him on even more?

This was Not Good.

**Ivanattempts:**

Oh, oh how Jim wished there _were_ cameras. The stretches between the messages, despite how short they were, annoyed him, and he wanted to see. But Jim always had had a bit of an active imagination, and so instead of watching the window - because really, he doubted he was lucky enough for the man to open the curtain for him - he relaxed back into his little nest of blanket and pillow, lips curling as the phone went off again. A quick check, and oh-oh, that was a good one, that one had him shivering. Why? Perhaps it was just the possibilities of it; above all else, it wasn't a denial, and perhaps that was what set his nerves tingling, made his breath hitch just the slightest bit. Was he really starting to get off on this?

Sure. Why not. Not like Richard got them any.

Quick fingers tapped out the response.

_I was only being polite in asking. Go on, pet. Daddy doesn't mind.  
-JM xxx_

As if the man _needed_ his permission to do such to himself. That was an exciting thought, actually. Besides...Sebastian didn't know he _couldn't_ still see him, now did he? And he had no reason to confess as much. His phone went dark and he waited, patiently, fingers splayed across his stomach, keeping track of his breathing, toying with the buttons on his shirt, the silky cloth of his loosened tie...Oh, this could turn out to be a very, very fun evening.

**taggianto:**

The mobile buzzed against his stomach. Jesus fuck, there had to be cameras. How else would he know... Off. Off. He should just turn the fucking phone off already god DAMN it. He had _work_ to do in the morning and then he'd probably have to flee the country because this weirdo was just getting too close for comfort. But he couldn't deny that he was half-hard already and sleeping with an erection was never exactly comfortable.

He slid a hand down to adjust himself slightly before sending another text.

_daddy? seriously? that is just messed up_

Sent. Sebastian knocked his head back against the wall a few times. What. The. Hell. Jim was probably sitting in some big leather chair (Sebastian's mind helpfully supplied the image of Blofeld's monstrosity of an office chair from "You Only Live Twice") in his posh London flat, watching the camera feeds from his laptop (Mac, naturally). What was he doing? Was he getting off on this?

Sebastian toed off his boots and socks and climbed angrily beneath the covers. Well even if there were cameras, that didn't mean he had to give him a show.

**Ivanattempts:**

The man had been amusing himself by flicking the buttons of his shirt open, one by one, slowly, so slowly, because unlike Sebastian, he had nothing to do in the morning, and he felt no shame for the growing tightness in his pants, the little thrills racing through his blood - he only paused to snatch up the phone when it went off, and he was chuckling, tipping his head, fingertip sliding across the screen slowly, as if it were the man's lips, shushing him - and that was a nice thought indeed, but one he couldn't act out. Right now, anyway.

_You don't seem to mind.  
-JM xxx_

A guess, of course - but the text wasn't _really_ a protest, and he still had a pretty good chance of being right that the man was getting off to this almost as much as he was - and that was thrilling to think about. Oh, he could just picture it...and picture it he did, taking all of the little details he'd captured from his earlier observation, imagined the man in his bed, sprawled across the blankets - no. That thought gave him pause, and he tipped his head. Blankets - if the man thought he was being watched, he'd be _beneath_ the blankets, wouldn't he? That would be the natural reaction. Hah. Too easy.

_I had no idea my kitten was so shy.  
-JM xxx_

A teasing jab, one that had him smirking, running his hand down his chest, towards his hips, thumb dipping just beneath the band of those fine pants, uncomfortable now - but he didn't undo them, not yet, oh no. He had _all_ night to savor this.

**taggianto:**

Shy? Sebastian groaned (or was it a moan?). Fuck, so there were cameras. Sebastian's eyes swept the room again, but he still couldn’t see where they'd been hidden. And he certainly wasn't getting out from under the covers in the state he was in to go and look for them.

_you do this to all your new employees?_

Sent. He kept the mobile in his right hand, his left drifting south to rub along his trapped and growing erection. He tried to force his mind to the normal stuff - big breasted chicks with blood-red painted lips working their mouths against his neck, his hips, his cock, but no matter how much he willed his brain to go there, it kept slipping back to those eyes. Those impossibly dark, chestnut eyes.

_you get off on this, don't you you sick little freak_

Sent. Fine. It was just a fantasy. No harm in a little fantasy. It wasn't the first time a man had slipped into his masturbation fantasy, though he had killed the last person that had alluded to that. Sebastian Moran was as straight as they came and yet...

He imagined Jim in that ridiculous leather swivel chair, watching him on his laptop. Teasing him with his texts. Slipping out of that prissy suit jacket, running his tongue across swollen lips. His breath hitched slightly and Sebastian let his head fall backwards, resting on the headboard.

**Ivanattempts:**

Oh, another lucky guess, and a much more telling one. So the man _was_ beneath the covers, and that meant he _was_ paranoid about cameras, and that he _was_ doing something indecent. The knowledge of that was absolutely _delicious_ , and it had his back arching just a bit, teeth digging softly into the soft flesh of his lower lip, tongue sweeping out in a parody of the fantasy he couldn't know the man was having.

_Don't be dull. I'm much too picky for that.  
-JM xxx_

Picky, implying the man had caught his eye, and oh, how he had. The message was sent, and the button of his trousers fell free, the zipper hissing down, fingertips just grazing the strained cloth beneath, setting him shivering, breathing leaving him in a quiet, warm rush akin to a sigh. The second message came too quickly to be a response, and he glanced at it curiously - only to chuckle, texting with one hand now, a little more slowly.

_I'm not the only one, it seems.  
-JM xxx_

A very mild confession; what did he care if the other knew? It didn't matter to him. He had no qualms about sexuality - if he was inclined, he'd fuck just about anything with a pulse, if it caught his eye at the time. Richard was much more timid than he, much more choosy, wanting relationships to be loving, steady, consistent. What was the fun in such predictability? No, this was much more rousing. As was his own fantasy, the image of what Sebastian must be doing, the way his body was likely to arch, the expression his oh-so-stoic face would contort into once the pleasure really began to hit him; and it made his lashes flutter down, briefly obscuring the darkness of his eyes, leaving him with lips parted, breath hitched, the faintest hint of a warm flush creeping into his face, head tipped back against the pillow he'd procured - hardly more comfortable than the hard floor, not that he cared much at the moment.

**taggianto:**

So Jim was getting off on this, watching him. _Him_ specifically. He didn't dwell on the implications of that. Instead, Sebastian's imagination plugged the new information in, and now he was seeing Jim's hands running down into his trousers and along his own erection. Mirroring the movement on himself, Sebastian exhaled shakily at the touch. His mind was filled with those eyes, those eyes again, watching him, pupils dark, and that grin, so predatory. Sebastian brought his hand up to lick along his fingers before returning to finally free his aching cock.

He hissed as his rough hand made contact and he quickly fell into a rhythm. He'd done this enough times to know exactly what he needed. A squeeze here, a flick there, the right speed, the right movements and he was already getting close. His eyes fell on the mobile phone. He didn't need to send any more texts, he really didn't, he could get there on his own from this point.

His fingers were moving seemingly without his brain's consent, though.

_sorry your enot getting mucj of a show_

Sent. He didn't even bother correcting the mistakes, it was intense now, with each stroke he imagined Jim watching him and matching his movements and then it was Jim's hand on his cock, moving just the way he liked and that had his back arching and his hips bucking. Oh, he was close.

And so very, very fucked.

**Ivanattempts:**

And the long stretch was the only response he needed to know he had him, to know exactly what the man was doing, and Jim couldn't help mimicking him, not that he'd have stopped himself even if he _could_ help it. Throbbing against his own fingertips, breath quick and uneven, fingers curling, stroking, a quick, steady rhythm. Biting his lower lip to keep quiet, because that image in his head was almost as good as actually seeing it, the silence of his phone just a confirmation of his fantasies. He'd gotten under the man's skin, and maybe he should be disappointed that it had been so easy, but he couldn't bring himself to be disappointed in much of anything at this point in time.

His mind, he found, was fixating on particular aspects of the man - his lean form, the confidence with which he moved, the set of his jaw, the cool flash of his eyes, and he could just see those eyes turning on him, those lips parting in a grin, and in his mind, Sebastian was the predator, not the kitten that Jim kept calling him, but a tiger, all sharp claws, sharp teeth, and a gaze filled with _hunger_. A look that said _I'm going to eat you alive_ , and _oh_ Jim _loved_ it. So much so that he almost missed the message.

Pulling up his mobile, he looked at the message a little dazedly. Poorly written, obviously too caught up to fix it, quickly sent. Why had he bothered? If he was that far out of it, why bother messaging him again?

Unless he wanted a little push. Unless he was really enjoying the game. Oh yes. Jim had him.

_I'll forgive you...under one condition. Come for me.  
-JM xxx_

And oh, it took more concentration than he'd wanted to give to write that message neatly, but like hell was he giving away that he was just as close as Sebastian now, panting, squirming against the floor, clutching at his phone. And he was on edge, right on edge, and _God_ , he wanted something like he'd just given Sebastian, but doubted he'd get it. Instead, he set to imagining the man's reaction to the message, hand working quickly, teeth digging into his lip now, lashes fluttering, back arched. Tense, so tense.

What a dangerous game to play with a man like Sebastian Moran - and what sweetness there was in the victory.

**taggianto:**

He was close, so close as he felt the mobile buzz against his side where he'd dropped it. Scrambling with the hand that had been teasing his own nipples, Sebastian read the text message and suddenly Jim's voice was in his ear, purring, ordering, commanding in that posh Irish cadence. Come for me.

Come for me, Sebastian.

Sebastian Moran had never been one to disobey a direct order.

There was a choked cry, an arched back and then Sebastian's mind went blank as his fingers were flooded with his come, warm and wet and thick. He was muttering something as the diminishing shocks of orgasmic euphoria rocked his body, but it definitely wasn't Jim's name, absolutely not, even if it was he wouldn't be able to process it. It was several minutes before he came down from the force of it all, breath heavy. He ran his clean hand across his face and neck, willing the panting to stop. Deep breaths.

Well it certainly hadn't been that intense in quite some time.

Sebastian didn't want to think about what that meant. Didn't even want to acknowledge what had just happened. He wiped his hand on the thin hotel sheets and tucked himself back into his pants. Rolling over onto his side, he faced the mobile on the bed. He felt a sudden flush of anger that he'd let Jim get under his skin, get to him like that. He was a fucking soldier, not some two-bit call boy for some perverted asshole's pleasure. He picked up the phone.

Message Thread from [unknown]  
Delete? Yes/No  
[Yes]  
Are you sure? Deleted messages cannot be recovered. Yes/No  
[Yes]  
Message Thread Deleted!

Tossing the mobile to the ground, Sebastian pulled the covers up over his shoulders and quickly fell asleep.

**Ivanattempts:**

Sharp bites, growls, snarls - the man was animalistic in his mind, and it was all he could do to keep silent, because while the mobile stayed silent, the Sebastian in his mind did not, and _oh_ the things he was saying. Enough to make him moan despite his need to keep quiet, enough to send his body arching away from the floor, enough to make him come, warm, sticky against his hand, against his stomach, just missing the shirt of that fine suit, which he'd thankfully been in enough of his right mind to push up before he was too far gone.

Panting - it was the only sound in the empty apartment now, and he was tired, eyes sliding to the mobile. Should he text him once more? Had had followed orders, after all, he was sure. Okay, fine, one last little indulgence. And if the man was finished, if he'd already fallen asleep, then it would be a fun little reminder for him in the morning, perhaps get his imagination working again - at the very least, it would make the man think of him, and that was good, very good.

_Good boy.  
-JM xxx_

Oh, he'd have to give him a treat sometime for following orders so well. Yes, indeed...but it could wait until their next meeting. In the meantime...he cleaned himself up a little lazily with a rag that was lying nearby, forgotten. A bit dusty, perhaps, but it did the job. He fixed his clothed only marginally, yawning, stretching, body twisting like a cat's, and then he was curling, hugging the pillow he'd found, mobile within easy reach, not that he expected a response.

Tomorrow, he'd need to go back to flat, clean up properly, get in touch with Sherlock and let him know all was going according to plan. What a chore. And then he just had to wait for Sebastian to return from whatever drudgery he was working on - which Jim was sure would only fuel his want for a steady job, rather than such thuggery - and officially have the man enter his employment.


	4. Play Nice

**taggianto:**

Sebastian's alarm woke him far, far earlier than he would have liked, the obnoxious techno beat from his phone's default alarm noise jostling him from a deep, dreamless sleep. He pawed angrily at the phone and was going to hit snooze when he realized he had an unread text message. He read it with one bleary eye and nearly hurled the phone across the room.

That fucking bastard.

Well fuck it, he was awake now. Sebastian yawned and stretched, deleting the message before heading for the shower. He needed to wash away all traces of the night before from his body and his mind. He needed a clear head to get through the job today. He needed a plan for how to get away from this circus freak. Sebastian turned the water on scalding hot and stepped in.

Two hours later, and before the sun had even started to rise yet, Sebastian was parked in a nondescript sedan outside Heathrow Airport, waiting for Niyeva and his goons to arrive. He was barely anything more than a glorified chauffer and bodyguard for this particular stunt, but a job was a job was a job.

And there he was. The Russian was sprinting (fuck. sprinting was not a good sign) towards the car and Sebastian had started the engine before he even got there. Niyeva slammed into the back seat with a briefcase and shouted at Sebastian. "Иди, иди!"

"Oh for fuck's sake..." Sebastian swore as he slammed the pedal down. Airport security was just pouring out of the door Niyeva had run out of, guns drawn. Sebastian ducked his head as he sped off down the motorway. They'd be in pursuit now. Fuck. "Что случилось?" He needed to know what the hell had just happened here.

"Я не понимаю, они перешли смены. Почему они переключаются сдвиги?" Niyeva clutched the briefcase to his chest as a bullet ricocheted off the back window.

Sebastian was pissed. He knew this plan was idiotic from the start, knew Niyeva would skimp on the research. But he'd needed the money. Fuck, had he needed the money. "Неважно почему, Вашь, нам просто нужно выбраться отсюда." Sebastian took the first exit he found and rocketed through side streets, luckily shaking any pursuit they had. He barreled through the waiting garage door and abandoned the car, Niyeva close behind as they made their way to the drop off zone in the warehouse.

Two massive bodyguards were waiting for them as they rounded the corner. Without a moment's hesitation, one raised his pistol and shot Niyeva square in the head. The Russian fell backwards with barely a squeak. Sebastian immediately ducked behind a shelving unit, gun drawn. What the fuck?

**Ivanattempts:**

If it weren't for the incessant buzzing of the phone near his head, the man very well might have slept straight through the morning, none the wiser. As it was, he groaned, grumbled, reached for it, drug it to his ear - and immediately sat bolt upright. "Uh-huh. Yes. Right. No, he won't. Guns scare him. Yes. _Alright_." The man was standing, fixing his clothes, jaw clenching and unclenching. "Yes, _mummy_." Oh, ever sarcastic. The call was ended, and his phone - nearly dead, unfortunately, due to the fact that he hadn't gone home - was shoved unceremoniously into his pocket.

"What's happening?"

Jim twitched slightly, pinching at the bridge of his nose. "Go back to sleep, Richard." And for a moment, it seemed that nagging voice wouldn't go away, that he'd be stuck fighting Richard today, but luckily - he wasn't a morning person, and sensation was soon gone, presumably with the other actually deciding to go back to sleep. How courteous. Of course, he didn't _need_ to move quickly - he knew he would have time, really. It was beautiful, in a way, how this had all been set up to drive the tiger further into the trap. A little laugh left him. Well, he may as well go home and change, so it didn't look like he'd been camping out in an empty apartment all night. What criminal mastermind would do a thing like that?

It wasn't long before he had showered and was in a new suit; blue this time, a very dark blue, easily mistaken for black, he was sure, and a striped tie he was becoming fond of. With a hum and a whistle, he was out the door, nice shoes clicking, and _oh_ what convenience, there was a car waiting for him. Such luxury!

The destination was a place he'd never seen before, but it didn't seem to faze him - his instructions had been very, very clear, and he smirked a bit as he stepped out, and made his way to the warehouse.

"Boys, boys."

The words were simple and smooth, but firm, sharply edged - they were children to him, kids caught with their hands in the cookies, pets caught piddling in the floor, and oh, he was _not_ pleased. The men were looking at him, but kept their weapons drawn, aimed, and Jim knew _exactly_ what they were aiming at. Jim didn't draw a gun - he didn't need to. Sherlock had it all handled. All he had to do was play his part.

"Daddy isn't happy with you," and he was glancing at his nails, uninterested even in his own words. "Not happy at all."

And it seemed for a moment that they were confused - who was this punk? Who did he think he was? And Jim could have applauded them for their own stupidity, because it made it all so much more real. His hands returned to his pockets, and suddenly his eyes were sharply on them, and he was crossing over to them, and they were wavering, torn between pointing their guns at him, and keeping them still. "Oh, don't bother." Annoyed, and they seemed to have some idea of who they were dealing with now, grudgingly parted for him. He brushed between them, paused only to brush off the shoulders of his suit with a murderous glance back at them, and stepped over the Russian's body.

"My name, dear men, is Moriarty. You were about to open fire on one of _my_ men." Jim was leaning against the shelving unit now, facing them once more, and the smirk that crossed his features would have frozen the blood in the veins of some very, very brave men. "If you had harmed even one hair on his head, I assure you, you would only be seen again on the streets of London in the shape of a very hideous handbag."

**taggianto:**

Sebastian kept his back to the shelving unit. It wouldn't provide much cover if the goons decided to open fire, but it was better than nothing. What the hell had gone wrong here? They were just supposed to drop the briefcase off in a specified box, to be picked up at a later date by some party unknown. He held his pistol in both hands, scanning the room for any possible exits when he heard it.

That fucking voice. The last voice he wanted to hear right now.

He quickly stole a glance through the shelves and out to the scene beyond. The two meatheads looked absolutely bewildered. Jim looked like he owned the place. And, Sebastian supposed, it was highly likely he did. The two men were lowering their guns and Sebastian took a chance. He came out from behind the shelves and trained his gun on the larger of the two men. Best to bluff it for now.

"You heard him. Handbags. He's decent with a sewing machine if you give him the right material," Sebastian said with a smirk, nodding in Jim's direction. "And the two of you would provide enough for a whole designer line, I think. Now get the fuck out of here if you value your lives, because I certainly don't." The two men obviously hadn't been paid enough to risk their lives and quickly turned tail for the exit.

Sebastian lowered his gun and looked over at Jim with a sneer. "I could have handled myself perfectly well on my own, thank you very much. How the fuck did you even find me, anyway?"

**Ivanattempts:**

Oh, and Sebastian was playing along. This really couldn't have gone any better. The two men beat feet, and he crossed his arms, eyes sliding to the side as the door banged shut behind him. A soft chuckle left him, and he shook his head. "As if I would touch their filthy bodies myself. Cute, though." A grin over to the other man, and he turned to face him now, eyebrow arching at the sneer.

"Possibly, but why risk it? If you're going to be injured, I would at least prefer it be on a job worth doing." His lips pressed into a firm line though, and he gestured over the fallen Russian with a condescending look. "Now, I do hope that while in my employ, you will be choosing better...companions. This is pathetic. How did you expect the job to _not_ go poorly?" A little sigh, as if genuinely disappointed in it. "Regardless of what your _employer_ may have insisted," he didn't know, of course, but he highly doubted the man had _chosen_ to bring this punk along, "you should have known better than to bring someone like him."

Jim turned once more to the man, eyebrows raising a little. How had he found him? He believed he could stick cameras in his hotel room, but not track him down on a job? Really. His lips tipped up into a slow smile, all too smug. "Come now, pet. Would you expect less of me?" A quick quirk of his lips, that smile turning into a grin. "Especially after last night?"

**taggianto:**

"Your employ? Now wait a second, I haven't signed on to anything yet." Sebastian knelt beside Niyeva, rifling through the man's pockets, liberating him of his wallet and gun as Jim prattled on. Sebastian was only half listening.

Until that last part.

And everything flashed through his mind, everything he'd been doing his best to ignore for the entire morning. He felt sick, suddenly. He hadn't expected to be confronting this to Jim's face. Honestly, hadn't expected to ever see the creep again. He'd fully planned to get his ass out of the country rather than deal with him. So much for that idea.

"How about you shut the fuck up about last night and I won't put a slug between your eyes," Sebastian said darkly, waving the still loaded gun at Jim.

**Ivan:**

"Still playing coy?" A little sigh, as the game were growing tiresome - and it was, really. The man was his, they both knew it. Why make it more tedious than it must be? Ah well. He supposed he could humor the man. "I would think not having to work jobs like this anymore would be more than enough incentive." And his tone was colored with distaste as he watched Sebastian rifle through the man's pockets.

Oh. He'd struck a nerve.

A slow grin spread across Jim's face, and he slipped his hands back into his pockets, taking in the look on the man's face, trying to discern what he was thinking - it wasn't too hard, actually, and he breathed out a dry laugh as the gun was pointed at him. "Touchy, touchy."

His eyes slid along the gun, and he stepped forward, towards the sniper, those dark, dark eyes fixating on him. His voice was a deadly, silken purr, as if the gun were nothing more than a toy, nothing more than a prop in a play, and the item held no fear for him. "Going to shoot me, pet?" And there was so much more to that sentence than was spoken - if Jim died, so did his job opportunity, perhaps his only chance to rise above the thuggery he had resorted to. His only chance to be appreciated for the finer points of his skills, to be tested and wielded as a weapon, a functioning part of something greater than himself.

Something _fun_.

"Oh, it was all in good fun, Sebastian; you certainly seemed to enjoy it. No point in denying that. But if you want to keep playing with the cards you've been dealt, by all means...pull the trigger."

**taggianto:**

It was tempting, it was so fucking tempting, just one squeeze of one finger, a motion he'd performed without a moment's hesitation countless times before, and the man would be gone from his life and things could get back to normal and...

Normal?

Life had become normal?

Sebastian looked hard into Niyeva's eyes, glassy in death. Could he really go back to working with criminals and low lifes like the Russian? Knowing what he'd given up? Steady work, steady pay... No more worrying with each job that something would go wrong, or someone would screw up and it would be his life on the line next? Sebastian wasn't afraid of death, never had been. Didn't exactly mean he wanted some idiot's mistake to spell his untimely demise.

But with what Jim was offering...

He took his finger from the trigger, sliding the gun into the back waistband of his jeans. He closed Niyeva's eyes and stood, brushing the dirt from his knees as he did so. "Fine. Fine, you may be a freak, but if you can deliver on all those high promises, I'm certainly not going to be getting a better offer anytime soon." His eyes locked on Jim's and he held out his hand. "I was always going to be making a contract with the devil at some point. May as well start now."

**Ivanattempts:**

The fact that the trigger wasn't instantly pulled was all the confirmation Jim had needed, and there was a hint of victory in the way he smiled now, the way he held himself. Of course, he hadn't really expected the outcome to be any different - there would have been genuine surprise on his face if that bullet had greeted him.

"Oh, good, you've come to your senses." As if the man had simply been waiting for Sebastian to catch on. His eyes slid to the offered hand, as if it were a gesture he was unused to - but after a moment, his hand slipped from his pocket, and into Sebastian's, fingers curling, memorizing the feel of it. Odd - this was the first time he had actually touched the man. It was a strange thought, really, considering - it took a bit of effort to recall that he had not, in fact, actually slept with the man last night.

A shame, really.

"Welcome to the winning side, Mister Moran." And there was confidence in the words - not arrogance, even, but clear, cool confidence in the fact that his side would, indeed, win out in the end. Whatever the fight was about, he was leading the battle, and assured victory in his endeavors. In this moment, he was all business, seemingly completely different from the man that had been texting the sniper the night before - though the thought hadn't left his mind, of course. But, business before pleasure.

"New lodgings will be arranged for you. How quickly can you be prepared to move? I can't have you staying in that run-down hotel forever."

**taggianto:**

Jim's hand was warm as Sebastian shook it, which caught him by surprise for some reason. He honestly didn't know what he'd been expecting - but it suddenly made everything feel _real_. Jim was real, alive, flesh and blood and bone, standing there in front of him, shaking his hand, offering him the job of a lifetime. And he had no delusions about that - a job like this was for life. You couldn't exactly walk away from something like this and live.

A contract with the devil, indeed.

He couldn't deny that had his pulse elevated and a grin crept onto his face. "I can have everything from the hotel packed by day's end. I only travel with the essentials anyway. Eventually I'll need to get to my flat in Manchester and get it sorted." Sebastian dropped Jim's hand and crossed his arms. "Not that there's really anything of interest there anyway."

Sebastian studied the man before him with a critical eye. His new employer. His boss, he supposed. How appropriate, to be finalizing this contract with a handshake over a dead body. Whatever that contract was. Honestly, he still didn't know exactly what he'd signed up for, but one thing was for certain, life wasn't going to be dull any more.

He couldn't wait to start.

**Ivanattempts:**

"Touché."

The quickened pulse was all too clear to him, and the man's grin was met by one of his own as Sebastian pulled away. His hand returned to his pocket without a fuss, and he was pleased with the answer, obviously - flexibility was good. There was no telling what Jim may demand of him on any given day, so it would do him well to be able to move with only a moment's notice, and to fare well in chaotic occurrences. "Good. Then tomorrow, you move."

His phone was out of his pocket, and he sent a text, allowed the other to look him over as he pleased. The text wasn't a long one, quick and to the point. And with that out of the way, his eyes were suddenly on Sebastian again, unreadable, lips just quirked up at the edges.

"Would you like a picture, pet?" Not that he would let him have one, of course, but he couldn't help the bit of snark, and he couldn't help the thought that followed it _. A little inspiration? Not imaginative enough for the real fun?_ Oh, it was a delightful little thought that almost had him laughing, but he refrained, head tipping to the side as he looked up at the other.

**taggianto:**

"Tomorrow. Right. You plan on telling me exactly where I'm moving to? I'm going to go out on a limb here and say you've probably already got some place planned."

Sebastian just narrowed his eyes at that last comment. "I was about to ask you the same thing." For fuck's sake, was the guy always this horny?

**Ivanattempts:**

"You're learning." In that Jim had a place already picked out, that was; that was the only answer he would get, though, it seemed. Jim liked to surprise other people - didn't like them himself, but it was fun to see other peoples' faces. It was so intriguing.

A little smile lit his features. "I've no need for that, as you should already know." Jim had ways of getting what he wanted, whenever he wanted - and those ways were increasing in number with Sherlock as his funding. "And if I did want one," and with a smooth motion, his phone was out of his pocket, and with the press of a button-"then I would simply take one."

Jim would have taken the picture and the man's agreement to work with him as enough of a victory for today, had his phone not begun to ring. His eyes flicked down to the number on the phone, and an audible sigh left him. He slid his gaze to Sebastian, then turned his back on the man in a sharp, silent dismissal. Fun as there games were, business was business.

"Yes. Yes. No. _No_." Silent for a few moments, walking away from Sebastian, towards the end of the warehouse, tone quiet and irritable. "Don't be an idiot." A pause. "He's sleeping."

Jim stopped dead at the end of the warehouse, and his posture straightened; that figure, while small, was _radiating_ fury, absolute rage.

"That is by far the most _idiotic_ thing you have ever said. No." Another pause. "No. He won't get in the way, if you would just-"

Jim pushed through the warehouse doors, intending to go straight for the car, and go _home_. Home before this got bad, because with Sherlock chattering in his ear, carelessly repeating the name again and again, he was experiencing a weird sense of vertigo, detachment, and he was feeling upended, and he knew all too well what that meant.

"Stop. Saying. His. Name."

And once more, in his ear, the snarky bastard, and Jim firmly hung up on him, nearly bruising his thumb with the force with which he ended the call.

Which made for one very confused Richard Brook, pouting at his hand, standing absently just around the corner from the car, just down from the exit of the warehouse, eyes sliding along the area, and _oh God_ , where had Jim landed him _now_?


	5. What. Did. You. Do.

**taggianto:**

Jim's phone came out and Sebastian's hand automatically went into a rather rude gesture, but he was left waiting for a click that did not come. "The Bee Gees. Really?" Sebastian scoffed as the phone began to ring. Then Jim's back was to him, obviously he had no need for him at the moment. Sebastian busied himself with moving Niyeva's body to a less conspicuous location. Whoever opened that crate at the bottom of the shelves in a few weeks was going to in for a bit of a surprise.

Sebastian tried not to eavesdrop on Jim's conversation, not that he was getting much from it anyway, but he could tell the man was upset. He looked up to see Jim at the far end of the warehouse, stock still. Something wasn't right here, Sebastian had an uneasy feeling in his stomach. He just watched, however. Jim hadn't told him to come along, and yet he also hadn't told him to leave.

What was his title now anyway? Bodyguard? Well something was clearly wrong, and as Jim left through the doors of the warehouse, Sebastian's mind was made up. Checking the gun was still in his waistband, he crossed the room casually, just enough so that he wouldn't be right on Jim's heels, but close enough should he be needed.

An invisible leash, he thought with a groan.

He waited for a few moments before exiting the warehouse as casually as he could. Jim was standing at the curb, still with his back to Sebastian, staring at his phone. Well, at least the call was over. "Who was that, boss?" Sebastian asked, strolling along, hands in the pockets of his jeans. "Is that what you want me to call you, boss? I guess you are now. So who was it, eh? Anyone you need me to deal with?"

Sebastian stopped a few paces back, continuing to speak when Jim remained silent. "Must be a right old bastard to get you worked up like that. Ex boyfriend perhaps?" Sebastian grinned a cheeky little grin as he drew a pack of cigarettes from his inside pocket.

**Ivanattempts:**

The sound of someone else approaching hardly registered at all - he was busy staring at his phone, fiddling with it, trying to figure out what had happened while he 'slept.' He knew some of the story, but not all of it - Jim had had free reign for nearly two days now, and Richard had hardly surfaced at all. There was a surge of regret at that - he hated not knowing what was going on, he was much too nervous for this, much too anxious, and Jim had landed him in some very awkward, very awful situations before...

He was about to continue walking forward and try to find his way home from... wherever Jim had left him, when the voice came, and he jumped just the slightest bit, nearly bolted, clutching at the phone as if it might protect him, fingers clumsy on the sleek device. He turned sharply to face the perceived threat, eyeing him slowly - past experiences with Jim and a bloodied nose or two had caught him to keep his expression carefully neutral when confronted with people they didn't mutually know. To keep his answer short and as ambiguous as possible, to not let on that he had no idea what was happening.

Of course, he knew the man by name, vaguely - Sebastian, this must be him. Jim had been terribly excited over him. But he didn't know him on sight, not really, only that... wow, he was intimidating. Very much so. When had he last taken those anxiety pills? God, he didn't even remember, Jim had hidden them again, and it took putting his hands in his pockets to hide the shaking. The suit felt stiff and foreign on his body, and he didn't like it, didn't like the greasy, slicked feeling of his hair, and didn't like that he was now faced with a man he barely knew the name of, and only knew that Jim had been much _too_ interested in, if the night before was anything to go by. Oh yes - at least that much, he remembered. How embarrassing.

"No one." It was all he could manage without a quiver hitting his voice - God, this was hard, this was always hard. Pretending to be Jim, because Jim would never pretend to be him. "Boss will do." Quiet, his voice softer somehow, not as sharp, not as commanding. He never had had the confidence Jim had. That was why he had needed him in the first place. He'd always been weaker, very weak, nothing like Jim. Richard had caught the number before he'd been spotted, though, knew it all too well; "No. No one to worry you." Only to worry him, to worry him and keep him up at night, to keep him anxious and on edge, and always a touch frightened, an absolute nightmare.

That grin was nice at least - he liked what it did to the man's face, made him a little less frightening, made Richard's instinct to run screaming in the other direction a little less strong. "Not an ex-boyfriend. I'd never date someone like him." Damn it, Richard, keep it simple! His voice had twisted with distaste, still not quite Jim's. They sounded _different_ somehow, and even he had never understood it, but his therapist had said it was normal...Normal.

Like anything about him was normal.

A little grimace. "You shouldn't smoke." Oh, hell, why had he felt the need to add that? He didn't need to have a conversation, he needed to get the hell out of here, before the man realized something was up! Stupid, stupid, stupid. Jim would yell at him later. He hated when Jim yelled.

**taggianto:**

"Date? Didn't exactly peg you as the dating type, Jim. More likely to just fuck and run, I'd say." Sebastian arched an eyebrow at him. Something was... off. Jim looked... Well, hell he didn't know how to say any other way, he looked weak. And the man that had hired him was anything but weak, that was for certain.

Something about that phone call had obviously very seriously rattled him, the man who exuded confidence was now trying to hide his shaking hands in his pockets. The Jim Moriarty that had stared down the barrels of two guns in that warehouse was a completely different monster to the man who was now telling him that he shouldn't _smoke_? He very deliberately lit a cigarette and took a long drag before continuing. "You don't seriously expect me to give up smoking, boss. You hired me for my guns, not my lungs. I'm sure I'll be dead from a knife to the throat long before cancer can set in."

Jim seemed to be almost flinching away from him. Sebastian took a step closer and furrowed his brow in confusion. "Hey, you gonna let me in on what's going on here? Tell me who that was. They've obviously got you rattled and I'd be a lousy bodyguard if I just let some creep walk around London with his jugular intact if he's got the power to reduce you to this."

**Ivanattempts:**

Just...Fuck and run? He seemed almost offended by that, but didn't protest, didn't dare dispute it because...Because Jim would. Hell, for all he knew, Jim _had_. He tried not to think about it. Didn't really want to know. He would simply let the man wonder about that one - Jim would no doubt do what he pleased with him, then toss him to the side, as per his usual tendencies. It was... a sad thought, almost, and it made Richard feel a bit bad for him. The man's words didn't much help with that - there was a softening - no, no, the man wouldn't die, surely not. Jim had said the job would be safe. No one actually got hurt. Right...?

He'd been wondering for a long time if he could trust Jim anymore. It was a scary thought.

As Sebastian took a step closer to him, he was hard pressed not to cringe - to cover it, he reached up and snatched the cigarette from Sebastian's lips, tossing it to the ground and stepping on it. The sudden movement helped to calm him, though it probably didn't predisposition Sebastian to like him. Oops. "It's bad for you. If you cough while taking a shot, you could miss, and botch the job." It was a feeble excuse, but the best he could come up with on the spot - and while Richard was an actor, he'd never claimed to be a very good one, especially not while off his meds, skittish as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.

"No one!" Quick, harsh in something subtly akin to panic; His fingers curled tightly around the phone in his pocket, as if worried the man might try to take it from him. He couldn't stop him if he did, but he hoped against hope that he wouldn't - his phone wasn't locked, no one had ever had reason to look into it, and he doubted Jim had deleted the messages from the night before, and there was no telling what else was on there, honestly. "If it becomes a problem, I'll let you know then." Softer, a touch of uncertainty now - almost apologetic, even. He knew Jim would be furious for that, but he didn't have it in him to be so mean to the man - Sebastian hadn't done anything wrong to him. He was just trying to protect him, as, it seemed, Jim had hired him to do. He couldn't fault him for that...

**taggianto:**

Sebastian narrowed his eyes as his cigarette was taken from him. "I never miss, you know that." He was pissed, but he didn't relight. "It's why you hired me, after all." He took a step back. Jim's insistence that it was no one was hardly convincing, but Sebastian was finding it harder and harder to care.

After all, he hadn't exactly been paid yet.

"Look, I don't know what the hell's going on here, but seeing as you're obviously not going to let on, I'm getting out of here. Need to pack up my hotel, after all."

Despite his words, Sebastian was uneasy with leaving Jim like this. Something was wrong, something was off, and it didn't sit well with him. He shrugged it away, however. Jim was a big boy, he could fucking handle himself, at least to get himself home, for fuck's sake.

"So tomorrow then. I'm assuming at some point you're going to let me know just exactly where you want me to go?"

**Ivanattempts:**

"Of course. Of course I know." And there was a 'please' that he could hardly keep himself from tacking on, that he swallowed back because Jim would be furious enough as it was. Biting the inside of his lip, a slow flush of something like embarrassment crept up his neck, and as he gazed up at Sebastian now, he looked a bit more like a  scolded child or a kicked puppy than a criminal mastermind.

"Right. Pack up." But it was absent, as if he'd forgotten - or never known - he'd given the order, and he turned some, as if frightened to turn his back to the man. He didn't know about the car - for all he knew, he'd be walking back home, and he...had no idea where he was. Not at all. Had Jim walked out here? God, who even knew with him. Jim didn't tell him anything anymore.

"Tomorrow?" A question, as if to ask 'what now, what's Jim done now', but he merely nodding, as if he'd suddenly remembered. "Yes. Yes, tomorrow, I'll get in touch." If he could drag Jim out again. It shouldn't be hard. Jim was always eager to get a chance to go out and about. But there was always the chance, always the chance it would be one of those days where Richard thought he really was crazy, where Jim was totally silent, as he was now, and left him with that aching sense of uncertainty. "Buh-bye then." Buh-bye? What kind of farewell was that? Ugh, he was terrible at this. If it weren't for the fact that Sebastian was still watching, he probably would have allowed his shoulders to slump in something like defeat. As it was, he stepped forward, and promptly took the long turn to get to the car, didn't even see it. An exit from these warehouses had to be about somewhere, and then he could find his way home from there. At least he didn't mind walking nearly as much as Jim did...Small mercies.

**taggianto:**

Buh-bye? Seriously? He was gonna get sick of all these little cutesy phrases before long - pet, dear, darling, ugh. "Tomorrow, then." Sebastian turned and headed toward where he knew the main street was so he could get his bearings and head back to the hotel. He _still_ didn't have enough cash for a cab, despite (more or less) completing the job this morning and getting hired by Jim.

He really needed to bring up the money issue tomorrow. But honestly, despite the grey skies it wasn't a bad day, and the hour or so walk to the hotel would give him time to think.

So Jim wasn't as stoic as he had tried to make Sebastian believe. There were still things that could rattle him, obviously, as that phone call had done. Oh, Sebastian would give several days of his life to know what exactly had gone on during that conversation. The knowledge might come in handy at some point in the future, if he ever needed to knock Jim down a peg or three.

As much as he tried to steer his brain away from it, there was no doubt that something about the man excited him. Not the weak, flinching Jim that had shown up on the street, that was an anomaly, but the powerful, confident, frankly deadly man he'd met last night (last night, fuck, last night, no, don't think about last night, that was a fluke) at dinner. Something about the possibilities, the sheer power he'd caught only the slightest glimpse of.

Oh yes, it got his blood pumping.

The hotel finally came into view, just as drab and dreary and despondent as it ever was. But he didn't care, not now. He wouldn't be here much longer. Wouldn't have to deal with this shit much longer. Steady job. Steady work. A release from the boredom.

He wasn't lying when he said he packed light but essential. It took him all of thirty minutes to stow away everything he'd brought into two large duffle bags and one rolling suitcase. He didn't know when Jim would be calling, so he figured it'd probably be best to catch some rest while he had the chance. He did a quick but thorough check of the hotel room for cameras, but came up empty. Double check the locks on the door, loaded gun beneath his pillow, Sebastian drifted off into a deep sleep.

**Ivanattempts:**

It took...frankly, much, much longer than it should have for the man to get his bearings. He wandered in the wrong direction for ages, wound up going in a circle around the warehouses, didn't realize he'd made a circle until he found the smashed cigarette butt, and was about to call it quits and try to call someone to pick him up when he rounded the corner in a huff and spotted the car - and good thing, too, because he was exhausted. Why, he didn't know - _he_ hadn't really done very much. It had been all Jim. But the walking for a few hours hadn't helped very much either, he was sure.

Richard liked being awake, really, but not when it was like this - he was quiet as he slipped into the back of the car, and he was loosening his tie, crossing his arms, muttering to himself. "Jim, what have you gotten yourself into now? What have you gotten _me_ into?" Miserable and soft, pouty even. When the car pulled up outside his house, he thanked the driver with a cheery wave, though, and slipped out, bouncing up the stairs and into his home. It wasn't much, but it was comfortable, and he loved it. It was a strange, but cozy, mix of himself, and Jim, their different tastes melding into one space, so they both felt at home. Fine drinks, but cheap food, cheap replicas of priceless paintings, fine sheets, ratty couch. It would be amusing, if it weren't him, maybe.

As it was, when he got into the house, he toed off the fine shoes - which hurt his feet, he might add - and trudged over to his couch, flopped onto it. Sometimes he made it to the bed. Today was not one of those days. There was a vague rummage for the charger to his phone, and he plugged it in, and laid it on the floor, dragging a blanket off the back of the couch onto himself and stretching, yawning. The suit would get rumpled, but he didn't care. Maybe rumpling up the suit would wake Jim up - he needed the other man awake tomorrow, for whatever he'd planned with Sebastian.

"You better not get me in trouble. _Again_. C'mon, I'm not even looking for my pills." Almost pleading, sleepily, curling on the couch, one leg draped carelessly off the side. And vaguely, he grabbed his phone, glanced at it, thumbed through it one last time - hoping it would stir _some_ response from the other man - and landed on the picture of Sebastian. He hovered over it for a moment, tipping his head and yawning again. "...he seems alright, Jim. Don't be too awful to him, alright?" Talking out loud, because it was habit, because he was used to Jim hovering like a wraith over his every action. "I know you can be kind." Something he knew the man hated to admit.

Uneasily, he closed his eyes - and while he fell asleep quickly, it was restless, terribly restless, and there were nightmares, awful ones, and he was scrambling for his phone to call...to call who?

He didn't have anyone. He and Jim had only ever had each other.

\---

When morning came, it found a very disgruntled Jim and a very relieved Richard, the latter of which was delighted to find the man awake, and fussed over him, tried to offer to make breakfast, but Jim wasn't having it, not hungry at all. Jim straightened out his back while Richard apologized for the suit, for sleeping on the couch, for Sebastian-

"What did you do."

It wasn't even a question, it was a furious accusation at the mirror, and Richard was cringing away, shaking his head.

"No, no, I didn't, it was...I mean it wasn't...that is..."

And Jim had had enough of his stuttering - if he could have strangled the man without killing himself, he likely would have done it.

"What. Did. You. Do. Richard."

The man was upset, thoroughly so, and misery mixed with fury inside him. "I tried not to talk to him. I told him to c-call you Boss, a-and that I wasn't talking to anyone on the phone, and that I-I'd be in touch today. He provided the answers, I just parroted them back at him, honest." Except for where he'd asked the man to stop smoking, which had Jim rolling his eyes, but he had to admit he didn't disagree. Smoking _was_ bad for the man. Still, he was in a bad mood, and had a sharp temper, and he silenced the other man from further explanations. "Not now. I don't want to talk to you right now. Pretend you don't exist." And it wasn't a request, but an order, and in quick order indeed, Richard had made himself scarce. There were times to test Jim's patience, and there were times to not. Now was a time to not.

He showered, changed his suit out for a different one and snatched his phone up, carefully pulling it from the charger. This was all he would need for now - everything else was already in place.

His thumb beat out the message in rapid time, sending it off with a firm click to the sniper, and he was out of the house, as suave and smooth as ever.

_Criterion, ten minutes.  
-JM xxx_

In the car he got, and off they went to pick the other man up.

**taggianto:**

Sebastian awoke, blinking and bleary eyed, checking the time on his phone. Fuck, he'd slept a lot longer than he'd intended. No message from Jim yet though, and Sebastian was itching for a run. With a quick change into shorts and a tight grey tshirt, Sebastian strapped his phone to his arm and plugged the buds into his ears. Runner playlist, heavy techno, full blast as he jogged out of the hotel and down streets still wet with early morning dew sparkling in the pink threads of dawn. He fell into a rhythm, barely noticing exactly where he was running (though he did notice several heads turning to watch which brought a smirk to his face).

He ended up making his way to Reagent's Park, jogging along some of the pathways therein before heading back around to the hotel, endorphins rushing from the exertion. Back up to his room, stripping for a shower as soon as he the door was closed, sure to keep his phone within reach...

He had a feeling the location of his phone was going to be a major concern in his life from now on.

Between the warm water from the showerhead and the rush of the run and the job the day before and because, well fuck it was morning and he was your average guy after all, Sebastian soon found himself leaning with one hand against the wall of the shower while the other was busy taking care of his erection. He was quick, efficient, he got the job done and soon he was grunting as he almost reached his orgasm...

Of course _that_ was when his phone decided to go off and he was suddenly unable to keep Jim's eyes, those eyes, from sliding into his mind as he finally spilled over the edge.

God damn it.

He quickly rinsed himself, shut off the water and wrapped himself in a scratchy hotel towel. He flipped to the message. Ten minutes? How the fuck was he supposed to get to the Criterion in ten fucking minutes? He swore loud and fast as he dried as best he could and slipped into the cleanest clothes he could find - a decent pair of khaki trousers and a dark tshirt under his leather jacket. He grabbed his wallet and his gun and burst from the flat. He'd have to take a cab to get there in time. He hoped he had enough to cover it.

Arriving at the Criterion he threw a few bills at the cabbie. When the man started to protest the fact Sebastian was several pounds short, Sebastian growled and flashed his jacket so the man could clearly catch a glimpse of the Browning holstered within. The cabbie didn't say anything after that, simply found his gas pedal and sped off for less violent clients.

Still. It had taken him a half an hour to get here. He didn't think Jim would be very pleased. He pushed through the heavy wooden doors and nodded to the restaurant host.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> taggianto: (( XD i love the interaction between richard and jim i'm just saying. richard trying to make breakfast for jim XD socute))  
> Ivanattempts: (Richard is very concerned for their combined health. Jim doesn't eat as much as he should TSK TSK. MOTHER HEN RICHARD TO THE RESCUE.)  
> Ivanattempts: (I really like those two, they're kind of silly together really. They bicker like a married couple. XD)  
> taggianto: (( and then you add in Sebastian who does the same fucking thing XD it's a bicker-full sassfest.))  
> Ivanattempts: (And Richard's like WAIT, PAUSE, CAN WE ALL STOP FIGHTING FOR A MOMENT, IT'S SO BAD ON MY NERVES.)  
> Ivanattempts: (I'LL MAKE COOKIES!)  
> taggianto: (( OHGOD HE TOTALLY WOULD. and jim would be trying to have a SUPER SRS DISCUSSION with Sebastian while Richard's got control of his body and is merrily humming away as he cracks eggs into a bowl ))  
> Ivanattempts: (And it would just be Jim turning to say something extremely serious to Sebastian, and Richard interrupting with this bright, happy smile, like, "And then I want you to turn his intestines into CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES, YOU LIKE CHOCOLATE CHIP, DON'T YOU SEBBY? EVERYONE LOVES CHOCOLATE CHIP.")


	6. Bumps in the Night

**Ivanattempts:**

Impatient. Highly impatient. Of course, he had known the request was an impossible one - really, it had simply been a test to see how quickly the man could get there. Jim's time at the restaurant was spent humoring Richard with a very light breakfast - despite the order to make himself scarce and stay that way, Richard had been insistent he eat something - and tapping his foot in time with the music from his phone, which was on the table, ear buds plugged in. Ordinarily, he wouldn't mind listening to the pratter, but it was quiet here in the mornings, and he'd really only even bothered to come in because Sebastian was late.

When he finally arrived, Jim looked up - and in that look, there was none of the shaking, nervous man Sebastian had seen the night before. There was the Boss, Moriarty, and he was not pleased with his pet, not pleased at all. He slipped away from the table and straightened his suit without a word. The meal had been paid for before the man had gotten there, and he didn't offer to buy him anything now - which Richard thought to protest, but backed down at the surge of anger even the thought brought from the man now in control. Silently, with only a sharp glance to tell him what to do, Jim picked up his phone, slid it into his pocket, and made his way out of the restaurant.

Once outside, he slipped into a black car, sleek but forgettable, nondescript, easily lost in a crowd, and he crossed his legs. To the driver, he didn't have to say anything, it seemed; once Sebastian joined him, it set into motion, and Jim removed one ear bud, the most courtesy it seemed the sniper was getting right now. His fingers drummed out the beat of the song he was listening to - something classical, actually - and his gaze remained on the window, lips softly tilted down in a frown.

To be honest, it wasn't a long drive, not terribly long at all, but he was restless, ever restless, and he'd waited enough this morning. It was making him irritable, snappy. "A car is arranged to take you to pick up your things, both at the hotel and your flat, later today. Seeing the place you will be staying might make it simpler to choose what you do and do not want to bring with you." The sentences were sharp and short - it was really only because he'd woken in a bad mood, only because Richard had nearly ruined it all. He was vaguely reminded of Richard's wishes - to be _kind_ to the man. Hah. As if.

The car pulled to a stop in front of a very posh looking building - he, at least, couldn't complain. He got out of the car the moment it had stopped, straightening he suits, and nodding towards the building, and the elevator inside. "Shall we?"

**taggianto:**

Ah, there was Jim. And he looked pissed. What the hell? He knew where he was staying, knew how far it was from the hotel, and yet he expected him to be there in ten minutes? What was he gonna do, teleport? He opened his mouth to let out some biting remark to this effect when Jim abruptly stood. Even at a full head shorter than Sebastian, there was no questioning who was in charge here. Sebastian nodded his head and followed as he was expected, out of the restaurant (empty stomach, not pleasant, but he'd had leaner months before, one skipped meal was hardly a hardship) and into the waiting car.

And still Jim said not a word to him. What the fuck was he so angry about? He was here, wasn't he? He wasn't smoking (and damn he was aching for a light right now, shit) and he didn't think he was dressed _that_ badly. He had to still be in a bad mood from that phone call yesterday. If Sebastian ever found out exactly who had been on the other end of the line, he had a few creative ideas for some fun to have with him. Or her.

Sebastian had always been one to forge loyalties quickly.

Oh, and Jim was finally speaking to him now, was he? "And what about everything that I don't take with me from my flat, eh?" Not that he had much, but there were a few sentimental items from his childhood. He didn't exactly want them torched if he forgot to bring them along. And he really wouldn't put it past Jim to do just that.

The car finally stopped in front of - fuck, _that_ was where Jim was having him stay? He didn't even want to _consider_ what the rent actually was for a flat in that building. It looked brand new. It probably was. And in the heart of London... yeah. Definitely out of the reach of his previous pocketbook. At this point, he didn't care if Jim _did_ torch his old flat, it certainly deserved it in comparison.

He slipped out of the car, following behind Jim.

**Ivanattempts:**

"I'd suggest you grab everything you want." It was the only warning he gave; this was a new life for the man, and they would be starting it off right. And oh, his mood improved a little at Sebastian's reaction to the place - yes, this place would do, and it would do quite nicely. He made his way into the place, stepping into the elevator and held the door for the sniper; they had the thing to themselves. And Jim hit the button for the very top floor with the hint of a smile, the first of the day. He was glad now that he had kept the place a surprise. Surprises always made him feel better.

_Ding_.

The door opened, and Jim snagged a set of keys from his pocket, unlocking the door and making his way inside - the place was already furnished and nicely so. It had a modern look to it, with touches reminiscent of the Victorian era, sleek, but subtly alluring. Moving to the middle of the room, he hummed and looked the place over - and inwardly, he was thrilled, excited, because honestly, the place was beautiful, even up to his standards when it came to such.

With a turn, and a slightly more genuine smile, Jim spread his arms and gestured for him to look around.

"Well?"

And there was a hint of real curiosity there - not an eagerness to please so much as a want to be right in thinking the man would like the place. It offered plenty of space for more than one person, two or three even, though Jim left that alone for now. He moved over to a window seat and casually settled himself there, twitching the curtains open to offer a stunning view of the city, which he allowed an appreciative hum over.

**taggianto:**

Grab everything he wanted? Well that was certainly vague and... threatening. The lift opened, Jim unlocked the door and Sebastian stepped into his new life.

"Fuck," was the only thing Sebastian could come up with as he looked around the flat. This was nicer than any place he'd ever found himself staying. He moved around the spacious living area and into the modern adjoining kitchen - stainless steel appliances, all sleek, modern, new. But it wasn't so modern as to be clinical and cold, there was still personality here, from the antique drawer pulls to the claw foot chair across from the modern leather couch.

Oh yes, he was going to be rather comfortable here. "It's... it's nice," Sebastian said, trying to get over the initial shock. Jim was obviously waiting for him to say something about it, he caught the eager look on his Boss's face. "A bit big but yeah... wow." Sebastian ducked into the nearby hallway, taking a quick look at the rooms therein - the bedroom was done in dark navy tones with bold mahogany accents, definitely his style. And that bed just looked heavenly. No more scratchy hotel blankets.

He sauntered back out into the room where Jim was waiting, taking a look out the window at the view. He'd noticed a balcony on the opposite side of the room, he'd have to check that out at some point.

**Ivanattempts:**

Jim didn't need to look around - he already knew the layout well enough, though he was pleased with the little touches here and there. For the most part, he was silent, allowing Sebastian to inspect the place at his own pace; it was a bit like bringing a new pet home, had to let them explore a little, get comfortable. This was really no different.

"Spacious." Even for the two of them. Ah, yes, there was still that matter. He waited patiently for the man to come to stand back in the room with him, and he stood. "I hope your bedroom is to your tastes." Murmured, and he had his back to Sebastian, and he was walking past the kitchen, down another small hallway - oh, and this was to ensure his privacy, just in case, because it was risky, but necessary, yes, very necessary. " _My_ bedroom is down here, should you ever absolutely need to know such."

And he was smiling now, because the cat was out of the bag - well, it had to come up sometime, he supposed, and this really was the simplest solution. Nothing could be perfect. He had no doubt Sebastian would be displeased with this little revelation, but...ah well! It wasn't like the sniper actually had much of a choice.

At least, for once, there had been absolutely no implication in his voice. No, he wanted Sebastian to stay out of his room entirely, and if the man set one foot across the threshold, there would be hell to pay indeed.

**taggianto:**

Nodding when Jim asked if he liked his bedroom, Sebastian let his eyes wander around the living space, only half-listening to Jim. The place was nice, very nice. Too nice. Wait, what the fuck did Jim just say?

Sebastian blinked. "What do you mean, _your_ bedroom?" He'd had roommates before, hell with his pitiful earnings it was pretty much the only way he could afford housing but this... This was crossing some sort of line. A line that was already fuzzy to begin with. There was no denying that the thought of actually _living_ with this impossible man made him more than a little uneasy.

He hoped to god there were locks on his door. If there weren't, there would be soon.

**Ivanattempts:**

"I didn't stutter." Jim turned to face the man, hands slipping into his pockets as he did so. His expression was a bit deadpan, as if the reason behind the words should be all too obvious; all the same, he sighed and arched an eyebrow. "You can't protect me very well from across London, now can you, pet?" The reasoning, for once, was honest - while he was having more than his fair share of fun with the other man, this certainly was not included in that fun. Too easy for the man to realize things he shouldn't, too easy for Richard to mess things up. His eyes roamed over the other's expression - he didn't even need to guess at what the man might be thinking now. It was the rational train of thought, after all, when forced to move in with someone you didn't trust. "There are locks." Not that that much mattered. Jim could pick the lock in seconds, if so inclined.

**taggianto:**

He hated to admit it, really hated to admit it, but Jim had a point. And for fuck's sake, by this point Sebastian was convinced Jim actually could read minds. "Right," He said, clearing his throat a bit. "Okay then. Fine. So long as you stay out of my space, I'll stay out of yours, and we shouldn't have a problem." Shouldn't, being the key word there. With everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours, he didn't put too much stock in this arrangement staying problem-free.

**Ivanattempts:**

Well, he couldn't promise THAT, but if the man wanted to think it...at the very least, he wouldn't make it obvious if he went through the man's things. Jim waved a hand a little dismissively, nodding and moving back over to his window seat, settling there. "I've no need to rifle through your belongings." A pause, and then a slow smile. "Unless you're hiding something from me." A soft purr, and he shifted to prop his legs up in the seat. "Now that you've seen the place, I'll be calling  a car to pick you up. Take as much time as you need to gather your things. You shan't have a chance to after this." After all, in their line of work, one couldn't be too careful. But, no one could catch what didn't exist!

**taggianto:**

Four hours later and Jim's car had dropped Sebastian off in front of his flat with instructions to call the specified number when he was ready to be picked up. He hadn't been here in weeks, evidence by the mail piling up at the doorstep. Unlocking the door, he grabbed the pile of bills and magazines and pushed inside.

The flat was a tiny one-room place with a closet for a bathroom and a Murphy bed that folded down next to a combination sink/stove/microwave. It was dark and dank and musty but Sebastian actually found himself with a pang of apprehension about leaving the place. Not so much the flat itself, but what it represented. Freedom. The ability to take the jobs he wanted, to scrape by on whatever he could, to claw a niche for himself out of the cold world.

He shook his head to clear it, quickly went through the mail, tossed out everything except a few catalogues and a check from an old job, then grabbed a plastic tub the driver had left and started packing.

**Ivanattempts:**

In that time, Jim had exited their new home as well, making his way to the small place he shared with Richard. Really, he was only there for the things he hadn't already moved over, the things he had wanted to grab himself - namely, Richard's assorted medications. While it perfectly pleased him not to have them about, he knew better than to deny the man of the anxiety pills for long. He became a complete wreck. With those in hand, he made his way back and hid the pills in his room. With that task completed, he grabbed a book - fairy tales, they were a bit of a guilty pleasure for both he and Richard - and returned to his window seat to await Sebastian's return. He didn't make it - despite himself, he nodded off, figure draped across the window seat, the book laying on his chest, lightly rising and falling with his breath.

**taggianto:**

It only took Sebastian about an hour to pack everything he needed up - a small box of memorabilia from the army, another of books (technical manuals, textbooks and a few murder mysteries), clothes shoved into duffel bags to cushion a small array of guns and weaponry. The furniture, bedding, plates, pots, pans... that could all stay and Jim could do whatever the hell he pleased with it. He hesitated slightly before grabbing a small framed photo from the kitchen counter of two young children, a boy and a girl, smiling, obviously taken quite a long time ago. He slipped the photo from its frame and tucked it inside his coat pocket before heading out to the waiting car.

Four long hours later, nearly midnight, and Sebastian was finally stepping out of the car and heading for the elevator. The driver had assured him all his boxes would be loaded up to the flat the next day and Sebastian had nodded at him.

Up the elevator, through the door and he quickly caught himself before he had dropped the duffel bag he was carrying to the ground. Jim was asleep. Fast asleep. With a book of... fairy tales? He looked so... small. Innocent. Quiet as he could, Sebastian set the duffel bag on the kitchen counter and just watched Jim. He felt a small surge of... affection? Loyalty? Something, but in that moment he knew with absolute certainty that if anyone threatened the man now asleep at the window, they would have to answer to him.

**Ivanattempts:**

The man slept dreamlessly - for the most part. There were nightmares occasionally, but brief ones, very brief, not enough to wake him. Even Sebastian coming in hardly stirred him; his head tipped, lips working soundlessly, before they stilled once more. He shifted, curled just a bit, only making him look smaller against the dark backdrop of the city, interspersed with the lights of the city like stars. Another nightmare was looming though, darker than the ones before, and he twitched slightly, lips curling unhappily, expression twisting - he was a child, a child hiding in a closet, staring through the slats. Shaking. And he knew what came next, knew it all too well. Softly, very softly, a whimper escaped him.

**taggianto:**

Sebastian had taken off his heavy boots at the door and was doing his best to move silently through the dark flat. He was halfway to his new bedroom when he heard a small sound. Glancing over to where Jim lay asleep on the bay window seat, he saw the man was curled tight and shaking. And there was that sound again. A quiet, broken whimper.

A sound Sebastian knew all too well.

Glancing around the living room, he spotted a blanket folded up at the side of the sofa. Leaning to grab it, he padded silently over to Jim and carefully laid it over his shaking figure, taking care not to touch him. He knew from experience that being jostled awake from a nightmare was almost worse than the dream itself, those few seconds where your brain hasn't yet caught up with your consciousness and everything suddenly feels completely and utterly real...

Sebastian was beginning to wonder if he hadn't been hired to protect Jim from himself as much as from others.

**Ivanattempts:**

No. No, no - why was this happening? These weren't Jim's memories or fears, they were Richard's; somewhere inside him, he knew that, not that it helped him in this all too vivid hell. In this moment, he was as helpless as Richard, and it was infuriating, panic-inducing. In moments like this, he understood all too well why his other half took the meds. Couldn't blame him. And that was a terrible feeling - Jim had always been the stronger, always the protector. But if he couldn't protect them, who would? No one. He couldn't trust anyone. The warm weight of the blanket was only a mild comfort - he calmed for a brief few moments, and then...then he was writhing, dangerously close to falling from the window seat, the book doing so first, with a thump that made him jump, but not wake. Someone was pausing outside the closet, reaching, the whimper had alerted them, and they were going to find him, going to...and then, Jim was screaming.

**taggianto:**

Satisfied now that the blanket was draped over Jim and he wouldn't end up getting himself sick from the chill of the window, Sebastian made his way into the bathroom near his bedroom. He vaguely wondered if Jim had his own bathroom as well. He really didn't want to think about walking in on him showering... although... Sebastian shook his head quickly. Nope. Not gonna go down that road, definitely not. He flushed the toilet and was headed to his room when he heard the book drop.

He turned and his first thought was that Jim was having some sort of seizure. He froze. He was not equipped to handle something like this. What should he do? It was obviously a nightmare, if he tried to wake Jim he'd probably take the full force of it... and yet he couldn't just stand here and watch Jim as he neared the edge of the window seat...

He made his way back over to the window, careful to keep his distance, but ready to catch him should he need to. "Boss..." he said softly, "Boss, wake up. It's just a dream."

**Ivanattempts:**

Clawing at the blankets as if they were some sort of unseen assailant, when in reality it was his attempts to draw them closer, to hide in them like the coats in the closet, to run, his flight instinct overwhelming his fight right now. _Boss_. What? What was that? That was new. _Boss_. Another voice, one unassociated with the fear that gripped him. Firm and smooth, and strong. But not frightening, not a danger - not to him at least. In the throes of his nightmare, he clung to it like a drowning man, that voice, and he tried to twist toward it, an arm reaching out...and then he was falling, tumbling off the edge of the seat, dark eyes flashing open in a moment of pure, undisguised panic and confusion.

**taggianto:**

He could see it coming, could see Jim twisting to reach for his voice, if he turned much more then he'd... and he was... and Sebastian was right there to catch him as he did, rolling his arms under Jim's thrashing form. He was surprised by how light the man was, almost like a child.

There was terror in Jim's eyes though, that panic, that moment of uncertainty when reality is still a myth and your dreams are real. Sebastian's voice was calm and low as he spoke to Jim. "Boss, listen. It was just a dream. Just a dream."

**Ivanattempts:**

There was a certainty of a hard crash, and in nearly the same instant his eyes flashed open, they squeezed hard shut - but the image of Sebastian standing there was burned into his mind, and he waited for the crack of the floor against his body...except it never came. Instead, there were arms, strong arms, saving him from the fall, holding him, hell, half-cradling him, and he didn't dare open his eyes. Didn't open his eyes, because then the dream would be over, and this man was part of the dream, wasn't he? In this half-awake haze, it made sense enough to him, and he didn't much want to hit the floor. He was cringing into the grip, curling into it...But the words were sinking in. The words were sinking in, and the momentary softening into Sebastian's arms halted with a sudden tensing, a hiss of displeasure from Jim's lips.

Weakness. He'd shown weakness. It was a trait he loathed, one he only shared with Richard, and only out of necessity. He struggled out of Sebastian's grip, forced himself to his own two feet, and forced himself to stand steady.

_Thank him._

_Shut up._

_Jim, stop it. Don't be like that._

_Shut. Up._

_Jim, he just-_

_One more word, and I'll take the knife to us Richard. Again. I swear I will._

And that thought was met with silence, a silence that he took as victory. He _didn't_ , in fact, thank Sebastian, could never swallow his pride enough to do so. Instead, he snatched up his book, held it against his chest too hard to hide the shaking still present, and with a brief hesitation, snatched up the blanket as well, the blanket the other man must have draped over him. He offered the man only a look, a look that very plainly said, _Mention this ever again, I'll turn you into something much more useless than a handbag_.  With a curt turn of his heel, he was marching out of the room, biting so hard at the inside of his cheek that he could taste blood.

He didn't yell, didn't snap at the man for touching him, for witnessing it. Even took the blanket with him. It was all of a 'thank you' he was willing to offer.

**taggianto:**

Instinct, pure protective instinct took over as he held the small man in his arms, still repeating the words, reassuring, and Jim was curling into the touch, Sebastian was about to stand and carry Jim to his bedroom on the other side of the flat when Jim suddenly tensed and clawed his way from Sebastian's grip.

He was standing there, just standing there, eyes squeezed shut, head twitching slightly as if he was disagreeing with something. Sebastian figured it was still residual effects from the nightmare and started to reach out to Jim when suddenly his eyes flew open and he snatched the book and blanket from him. With a sharp about face, he left Sebastian in the dark.

Several minutes went by with Sebastian still crouched on the floor where Jim had left him. His mind was racing, trying to reason through what he'd just witnessed. Obviously Jim played tough, but was haunted by demons. Sebastian knew all about demons, he had several of his own in his past. With a sigh, he finally stood and made his way to his new bedroom. A quick pop into the bathroom and then he was stripping to his boxers and crawling onto the queen sized mattress. The sheets were soft against his rough skin, and Sebastian didn't know the last time he'd ever been in a bed this comfortable.

It certainly hadn't been his, that was for sure.

With a stretch and a yawn and a cracking of joints, Sebastian curled up into the bed and soon fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

**Ivanattempts:**

The bedroom was dark, and there was a sort of...strange emptiness to it. With Sebastian shut out, and Richard making himself scarce, for a rare moment, Jim was alone. It was...an odd feeling. Always, he'd thought it was something he would wholeheartedly enjoy. But right now it just felt...lonely. What an odd sensation. It was one he'd never really known. And there was just a touch of regret. What would have happened, if he hadn't pulled away? The reality of what had just happened was settling now, and it was heavy on his shoulders. He pressed his back to the door, and slid his way down along it to settled into the carpet, knees pulled to his chest.

Sebastian hadn't been mocking him. He hadn't teased him or laughed. He hadn't tried to take advantage of the brief slip in his fractured facade. He had...caught him. He had held him. He'd been...pulling him closer, Jim realized, with a start. He'd been pulling him closer and preparing to stand, still murmuring those reassurances to him. No one...no one did that. They just didn't. Weakness was taken hold of, weakness was used against people. Weakness was an unforgivable trait. And yet, still, he couldn't help but wonder.

What would have happened?

_If you weren't so stubborn, maybe you'd have found out._

_Didn't I tell you to shut up?_

_You can't complain about not experiencing something if you refuse to let it happen._

_Richard, don't._

_You're so stubb-_

"If I weren't so stubborn, men like him would eat us alive! Is that what you want? Huh?!"

Richard fell silent once more, obviously a little hurt at that. And Jim might have apologized if he weren't already so furious, so distressed. He _had_ to be the way he was. If he wasn't, that was it. If one of them was weak, the other had to be strong, and Richard was anything but. Jim rubbed at the bridge of his nose and stood - he hoped Sebastian hadn't heard the sudden shout. Maybe the man was already asleep. Which was good - sleep was good. Maybe he should just sleep too. Right.

With a groan, he stood and stripped off the jacket of his suit, those fine pants, down to his skivvies. He had pajamas, of course, but...fuck it. He didn't feel like messing with them. Richard didn't speak up again; judging by the way Jim simply left his suit pooled on the floor in a small, crumpled heap, he _must_ be in a bad mood. Maybe sleep would do them all some good. Jim crawled into the bed, looking at the blanket already there, before hesitating, and instead snatching up the blanket Sebastian had draped over him. He liked the texture of it. Yep. That was it. He drug it over himself and curled up there, only a tuft of dark hair and his tightly closed eye visible above the edge of the cover.

**taggianto:**

Just as he was drifting off to sleep, Sebastian heard what sounded like a shout from another apartment. Great, the neighbors were noisy. He rolled his eyes and tucked the comforter closer around his shoulders. Maybe if they continued to be noisy, Jim would let him take care of them. That could be rather fun.

Sebastian woke with a start at 5:30 in the morning, frozen in the foreign bed. The morning light was only just starting to glow through the window in the room and everything had a positively alien look about it, this bed he didn't know, this room he didn't recognize. It took several minutes for his sleep-addled brain to catch up to where he was, what he was doing, how he had gotten there. Finally awake enough to snap out of his momentary panic, Sebastian stretched and yawned, reluctant to leave the soft cloud of fabric that was his new bed. Eventually though, he could ignore his bladder no longer and he pushed away the comforters, sitting at the edge of the bed and rubbing his eyes.

He was about to head out of his bedroom and to the bathroom when he caught his reflection in the mirror behind the door and paused. Shit. Probably wouldn't be a good idea to go wandering around this apartment half naked, now that he had a flatmate. With a slight frown, Sebastian grabbed the undershirt he'd been wearing the day before and slipped it over his head.

Bathroom duties performed, Sebastian padded his way into the large, modern kitchen and glanced around. Brand new appliances, pots, pans, cooking utensils, fully stocked pantry and spice rack, refrigerator filled with the basics. Sebastian smiled as he rubbed his hands together. He'd been known for his skills with the basest of ingredients and cooking utensils while serving in Afghanistan, now faced with everything at his disposal, he couldn't wait to experiment.

Breakfast then. What to make... omelettes, definitely - eggs, peppers, cheese, onions. Oh, and there were potatoes in the cupboard, so hash browns. Sebastian ran a loving hand over the exquisite knife set sitting in the corner of the counter, drawing the chef's knife from its holder and testing the blade with the pad of his thumb. Perfectly sharp. He set the vegetables on the butcher-block in the kitchen's island and began to slice everything up with expert precision.


	7. Breakfast

**Ivanattempts:**

The smell of something cooking was what woke him, the sounds of someone moving about the flat. That was unusual. Slipping out of bed, he shivered, pouting some, and moved over to the closet - foreign, but he vaguely remembered where he was, and why he was there, even if he didn't quite agree with it. He rather liked the homey little flat they had been living in. Yawning widely and ruffling up his hair some, he dug through until he found some of _his_ clothes. Good. He'd been worried none of them had been brought over, but it seemed Jim did have a little mercy. After a bathroom break, Richard changed into a loose-fitting t-shirt (slightly stained, dark spots that might have been paint from helping on the set sometimes) and some soft pants that just barely clung to his hips.

With all that settled, he took a brief moment  to start hunting for his pills - he knew they had to be around here somewhere. He'd gotten pretty good about finding them, and Jim hadn't had too terribly much time to hide them. Finally, he surfaced with them from beneath the bed, tucked up against the mattress with a little triumphant sound. He downed two of the pills with a gulp of water from the sink, and then finally made his way to the door, easing his way out of it. Okay, well...he'd played Jim before, he could do it again. Besides, he was still tired right now, and surely the other man didn't know what Jim was like right after he'd woken up. Uh, he hoped. He'd rather not think about it.

Richard padded quietly down the hallway, eased his way past the kitchen with only a sleepy glance towards Sebastian; it made his heart leap in his throat to be so near him, but...but he was nice. Really, he was. Last night had proved that. Surely he was a good man, and nothing to worry about, like Jim suggested. Quietly, and with a yawn, he moved over to the couch and curled up sideways on it, leaning his head tiredly on the couch, idly watching the sniper. And he knew he shouldn't talk, but...well, if Jim wasn't going to be nice to him, that didn't mean they both had to be jerks.

"That smells good."

Quiet, somewhat sleepily spoken; his chin was resting on his arms now, body twisted to observe the man in the kitchen through half-lidded eyes; honestly, the man looked as content as a lizard in the sun. And he was - he was warm and comfortable, and the couch was cozy, and breakfast smelled great. He'd even slept pretty well, after the mess with the nightmare.

**taggianto:**

"Hope you're hungry," Sebastian said, voice still a bit gravelly from sleep. The potatoes were sizzling in the browned butter and onions and he tossed the pan a few times with a flick of his wrist, adding more sea salt and pepper. Eggs were cracked into a bowl and mixed with fresh spinach, parsley, nutmeg and a dash of hot sauce. The egg mixture got  divided into two separate pans for two omelettes.

He watched Jim from the corner of one eye as he cooked. He was curled up like a kitten on the sofa, in an outfit so utterly unlike the sharp designer suits he was used to seeing him in that if Sebastian didn't know any better, he would have said he was a completely different man.

A few minutes later and a toss of both of the omelette pans and Sebastian was dishing them out onto two plates. A scoop of hash browns to each and a few strips of bacon. He set them on the little breakfast bar near the kitchen and called to Jim over his shoulder. "What do you want to drink? There's milk, water... a couple oranges if you want orange juice. If you want coffee it'll take me a few minutes to figure out how to run this machine." Sebastian turned and went about preparing his morning tea for himself, teabag into a mug, boiling water from the kettle. He started digging through the various cupboards in search of the sugar.

**Ivanattempts:**

"I can eat. Thank you."

Oops. He wasn't supposed to thank people when pretending to be Jim. Ah well, it was so quiet, maybe the man hadn't heard him at all. He was always quiet when he first woke up. Stretching a little, he let out a little sound as his body unwound, leaving him momentarily draped across the couch in a relaxed heap. Eventually, he roused himself enough for his head to reappear over the back of the couch, humming softly.

"Mn...milk for me, please."

Almost sing-songy, happy - no one ever made him breakfast. Usually, he was the one cooking, and Jim always complained. He drug himself from the couch and made his way into the kitchen, looking over the plates with a smile. It looked...delicious! Wow! He settled onto a stool at the bar, swinging his legs a little idly and watching the man, tipping his head. What was he looking for? Oh! Sugar, of course.

"Sugar's in the cabinet to your right." He offered helpfully, picking up a fork and poking at the food - it was steaming, and warm, and he closed his eyes, simply enjoying the smell of it for a moment; he seemed peaceful, and really, he was for a change. Now that he had his pills, and he didn't see Sebastian as something terribly frightening, he felt much better about this whole situation. Richard could admit he'd been terribly nervous about it all to begin with, but...well, surely it wouldn't be that bad. Raising his fork, he scooped up some of the hash browns, bringing them to his lips and blowing lightly at them, trying cool them off slightly before popping them into his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully, before swallowing and smiling.

"This is delicious!"

**taggianto:**

Sebastian was a little puzzled. Jim seemed so quiet and... soft. Which was entirely unlike the man who had stared down the barrels of two guns not twenty-four hours earlier. He chalked it up to early morning haziness and shrugged. Sugar located with Jim's help (help? seriously?), he dumped two spoonfuls into his tea and stirred.

"Thanks," he said a bit warily at Jim's enthusiastic remark about the food. Wasn't this the same man who had all but ignored a beautifully cooked sea bass two nights ago at the Criterion? Who'd sneered at Sebastian's practically licked-clean plate? "There's not a whole lot in the way of fresh vegetables or meats in stock right now, I'll probably have to run to the shops before dinner." Sebastian paused, fork halfway to his mouth. "Assuming we'll be here for dinner tonight." He frowned slightly as he popped the bite of omelet into his mouth and chewed.

Come to think of it, he _still_ didn't know exactly what Jim wanted with him, or what the hell his days would be spent doing from now on. He hardly figured it stopped at "live-in chef."

He also found it a bit disconcerting that he'd more or less started thinking in terms of "we" when it came to planning his day.

**Ivanattempts:**

Richard ventured to try the omelette next - he popped it into his mouth and blinked, swallowing hard. It, it wasn't...bad, it was just...

"Hot sauce?"

He guessed, taking a quick gulp of his milk. He didn't deal very well with spice, didn't like it very much. Still, besides the slight kick in the taste buds, it was good, and he ate without complaint, seeming delighted with the meal. While Jim might stare down his nose at even the finest of foods, nothing pleased Richard more than something simple and homemade - or casually ordered out. The words made him look up, and he offered the man another bright smile. Maybe he should try a little harder to disguise the fact that he was a completely different person from his counterpart, but...well, it was still early, and he honestly minded a lot less than Jim would. Maybe Sebastian would even understand if he figured it out. That was a nice thought. He leaned his cheek on his hand, picking at the food now, starting to get full.

"Mn, that sounds nice. I'll go with you!" The second comment gave him pause though, and he flushed a little, seeming a little embarrassed, as if he forgotten that they might have other things to do. Did they? Not that he knew of, not today. He paused, fishing for his phone and glancing down to it - well...no new messages, and no missed calls, so it seemed they were free for the day. Great! "Yeah, we'll be here. Unless you want to order out or something?"

Cheerful, incredibly so, even in his sleepy state. Really, he was so much less of a wreck when he had his pills - nothing like the jumpy, nervous version of himself that Sebastian had met before. No - now he was relaxed, sweet and gentle. Not the facade of Jim he knew he should be putting up, but...Well, he'd let Jim deal with that some other time. He hated always pretending to be someone else. He knew it was for the best, but...well, sometimes he just wanted to be himself, darn it!

**taggianto:**

"I've found a little kick of spice is a good way to get yourself fully awake in the mornings," Sebastian said with a nod and another bite of omelette. It was pretty good, he thought, mentally patting himself on the back. Probably could use a bit more kick next time though, maybe a dash of cayenne pepper.

"You can come if you really want to, though I don't know how exciting it'll be. It's just a trip to the shops," he said with a shrug. Though he got to thinking about the seemingly bottomless bank account his new employer had and he started salivating at the possibilities. Oh, he could have some fun with lobster. Or filet minion. Or both. Surf and Turf.

"Nah, I'd rather cook. Been too long since I've had a proper kitchen. Mostly been eating takeout and microwave meals for the past few years." _When I ate at all,_ Sebastian thought to himself. There had been some lean times in between jobs.

He still couldn't wrap his brain around the Jim that sat before him now, smiling and leaning on his arms like a teenage schoolgirl sitting next to her crush in Biology. The thought occurred to him that this might just be another one of Jim's mind games and he stood a bit straighter to drink his tea. Who knew what the hell was going on in that mind of his.

His own meal finished, Sebastian cleared his plates into the sink and started running the water to get it warm for washing. He nodded at Jim's nearly-finished plate. "You done, or still picking away?"

**Ivanattempts:**

"I don't really like spicy things...b-but it's still good!"

He didn't want to offend Sebastian, after all. It really was rather delicious, and he appreciated it. He hummed as he kept poking at the food - he wasn't really eating anymore, more of simply playing with his food. He arranged one leftover strip of bacon, and what was left of his eggs and hash browns to make a smiley face on the plate. Well, that was a cheerful sight to be met with, and he found himself smiling back at it. "I'm sure it'll be fun. I like the little shops." Jim, of course, hated them, but there was something quaint and homey about them that Richard appreciated.

"That's fine by me, then. Since you made breakfast, I could make lunch?" A simple offer, dark eyes sliding from the smile on his plate to the other man, head still reclined slightly onto his hand. His hair was a mess, and there was something...innocent in the way he looked at the other. Unassuming, humble and genuine. At the question of his food, he paused, glancing down at the smiling face and shrugging, spinning it around so it could smile at Sebastian instead, pushing it lightly towards him.

"Here you go! Thank you."

**taggianto:**

Sebastian reached across to grab Jim's plate, arching an eyebrow at the smiley face it now contained. It somehow managed to be creepy, but that was mostly due to the nature of its creator. He pushed the pedal on the garbage can with his foot, lid springing open, and scraped the remnants of breakfast from both of their plates into the trash. He twisted the knobs on the tap, running the water and turning to Jim while he waited for it to get hot. "You cook?" That was a bit of a surprise. Though really, Sebastian felt he ought to stop being surprised by now.

He opened the cupboard under the sink and knelt down, rummaging for a sponge or brush and some form of dishwashing liquid. He managed to find half of an old yellow sponge and a nearly-empty bottle of Dawn and added _Cleaning Supplies_ to the shopping list in his mind. He reached up to set these by the sink before pushing back up to his feet. Testing the water, he found it heated to his satisfaction and he started working the old sponge into a lather with what soap he was able to extract from the bottle.

**Ivanattempts:**

"Yes! Well, um...sort of. I can cook some pretty simple things. And if you give me a recipe, I can...uh... _usually_ get it right!"

At the very least, he seemed eager to try. What could he make? Well, um...spaghetti was hard to mess up, right? He could probably manage that! More of a dinner than a lunch, but surely Sebastian wouldn't mind...in thought, his head began to sway slightly, as if to some inner tune that no one else could hear. It was purely unconscious; if Richard had known he was doing it, he would have stopped himself immediately. It was a habit of Jim's, not his own, and he didn't like that, didn't like that he'd started to pick up little quirks from his other half, because...Well, just _because_. It seemed wrong, in a way. all the same, side to side his head went, lower lip tugged into his mouth to be teased by his teeth.

Soon, though, he snapped out of it, and slid off his stool to join the other in the kitchen, frowning and elbowing him very softly. "H-hey, wait just a moment! You cooked, I should at least do the dishes. That's fair, right?" Richard, unlike Jim, didn't much care to be pampered or completely taken care of. He liked to earn what he got - it just made it more enjoyable to him, to know he had worked hard, and gotten rewarded for it. And Sebastian had cooked him a good, if spicy, breakfast, and he wanted to do _something_ at least...Laying about the house all day wasn't like him, and it gave him too much time to think. Too much time for Jim to creep up on him, to get into his thoughts, and...There was a stirring, and his lips pressed into a line.

"Go sit down and watch telly or something. I can handle the dishes."

**taggianto:**

Sebastian watched as Jim's head swayed, oddly snake-like in the motion. The man was obviously lost deep in thought, he wondered what nefarious scheme had his attention so focused. He shook his head slightly and had just started rinsing off the first plate when Jim stopped him. That definitely had him blinking. "Fair?" More blinking. Since when were things _fair_ in this arrangement? Wasn't this the creep who'd wired his hotel room with cameras just so he could watch him toss one off to his text messages? And now he was lecturing him on how it was only fair that _he_ do the dishes?

Maybe Sebastian was being too hard on him, though. A little too quick to judge. They were going to be living together, after all. He'd only assumed that Jim would be an awful roommate. So far, at least this morning, he was proving to be otherwise.

His mind jumped back to the previous night. Jim, stuck in nightmares, curling into his touch... Sebastian mentally chastised himself. He had to stop making these assumptions. Jim was a grown, complicated man, but he had his vulnerabilities, certainly needed protection.

Maybe someday he'd actually tell him what he was supposed to be protecting him from.

With a shrug of his shoulders, Sebastian lay the sponge on the edge of the sink and crossed to the nearby couch - the kitchen was open air to the living room, the breakfast bar dividing them. He hunted for the remote, finding five and managing to power on the flat screen mounted on the wall after trying three remotes unsuccessfully. He settled on a documentary on Ancient Rome and laid back on the leather couch, propping his long legs on the opposite armrest.

**Ivanattempts:**

"Yes, fair!"

The word had the boy smiling; for all intents and purposes, he really seemed rather...oblivious to the other's thoughts on him. The terror of the nightmare was gone from him - it had, after all, been Jim's nightmare, not his own. Jim often took the nightmares for him, a bit of kindness he knew the other would never admit to. But Jim...Jim _did_ care. He had to. Richard, at least, believed he did, most of the time. He could be cruel, like when he hid his pills, or punished him for being particular bad, or, as he had so sharply reminded him the night before, had taken the knife to them...but really, most of the time, they coexisted peacefully, with brief differences of opinion. "Good. Thank you." Thanking Sebastian, for letting him do the dishes! Jim would have been appalled.

But thinking about the man so much had him stirring, and so Richard tried to think of something else. It wasn't that he didn't want Jim around, it was just...every once in a while, he liked a little time to himself, and he didn't want to have to deal with Jim's wrath just yet. Without waiting, the man picked up the sponge that had been set aside, and set to work on the dishes with a patient, happy expression. To keep his mind busy, he thought of a tune, something he hadn't heard in a while, and tried to remember all of the words to it. That was always fun! Idly, once he was finished with the plates, and working on the pans, he turned his head over his shoulder and smiled, just peering at what Sebastian was watching. Ancient Rome? Well, not his particular brand of telly, but it looked interesting! And...wow, that screen was huge. He'd not noticed that before. Ah well. The pans were clean now as well, and so were the utensils, and so he finished up, the water draining with a slosh and a gurgle, and dried his hands smartly on a hand towel. With that all settled, he bounced into the living room, and instead of picking a chair, or asking Sebastian to move, he plopped down on the floor in front of the couch, near Sebastian's legs, and leaned back against it, legs drawn up like a curious child watching cartoons. His eyes were wide and fascinated, taking in the documentary eagerly.

**taggianto:**

Sebastian was only half paying attention to the documentary, listening as Jim softly hummed some unrecognizable tune to himself while he washed the dishes. Eventually the water shut off and Jim came bouncing into the room, plopping by Sebastian's feet. The image had him smiling a bit, they were both still in their pyjamas after all. The voiceover on screen was describing the life of a gladiator while the camera panned and zoomed through the ruins of the Coliseum. _Years of training, of fighting ones way through the ranks, and quite literally through the competition, and eventually a lowly slave could emerge a crowd favorite, earning adoration from kings and commoners alike all for one reason: the thirst for blood._ The shot changed to two (rather muscular) actors in full gladiator garb – that is to say, not much of anything – reenacting a fight scene with quite frankly appalling sword and shield technique. Sebastian yawned, post-meal lethargy settling in.

Sebastian was about to make some sort of a comment on the state of fight scenes these days when there was a sharp buzz that echoed through the apartment. Assuming it was their doorbell, Sebastian pushed himself off the couch, swinging his legs over Jim’s head in the process. Crossing to their hallway door, he noticed a touch screen panel embedded in the wall. There was a feed coming from a camera installed outside their building showing two moving men and a pile of boxes. Sebastian recognized them from his hasty packing at his old apartment. Pressing the intercom button, he instructed the men to bring the boxes up.

**Ivanattempts:**

Richard was engrossed in the documentary, wide-eyed and staring. How violent it all was! He cringed at the fight scene as well, watched it through his fingers as he attempted to cover his eyes, but couldn't tear his gaze away. Oh, he did hope they were careful with those swords, they were going to hurt each other! Of course, he knew they were actors, like himself, but he couldn't help it, squirming where he sat in anticipation. They weren't even particularly _good_ actors, not that it mattered to the man, because, well, to be quite honest, he wasn’t the best at acting either. B-but he did a decent job! The buzzing of the door bell had him tipping his head, turning some as if to look, but keeping his eyes glued to the television. Really, he just couldn't get enough of it!

Oh, gruesome. They had moved on to the gory details of the fights, and Richard found himself incredibly less interested, turning to clamber onto the couch and watch the other man tell someone to come up. "Who is it?" His voice was soft and curious, and there was a certain amount of anxiety in it that he tried to hide - was it Jim's men? That made him nervous. Jim's men always made him nervous. Except Sebastian! The newest addition to the family - that was what Jim liked to call it, so Richard had picked up on it as well, it sounded nice, homey, and very unfrightening! - seemed to be a very kind person at heart, and that was good by him!

**taggianto:**

Sebastian flipped the deadbolt on the door, propping it open with the kick stand at the bottom. He heard Jim's question and moved to the end of the hall standing with his hands on his hips. "Movers, here with the boxes from my flat. Well. My old flat." Hearing the ding of the lift, he turned back to direct the movers to bring the boxes back down the hall and into his bedroom. There really weren't that many, all fitting on the two dollies the men pushed.

Boxes unloaded, Sebastian waved the men out and shut the door again. "Why don't you start on a list of what you need for whatever you're making," Sebastian said over his shoulder as he headed down the hallway. "I'm gonna grab a shower and then start unpacking some of this shit."

**Ivanattempts:**

"Oh!" Movers? Yes, that made sense, he supposed, Sebastian would have things to move in too. Jim had taken care of it all for him, not that all that much of _his_ things had made the move - but it wasn't as if they had gotten rid of their flat. In fact, Sherlock was taking care of it! Where _he_ was getting all this money, Richard didn't want to even begin to contemplate. He was about to offer to help with the things, if Sebastian wanted such, when the other spoke, and he hesitated, then nodded. "R-right! Enjoy your shower then!"

Moving into the kitchen, he snagged a notepad that was on the fridge, and the miniature pen - how cute! - with it, settling at the breakfast bar. What, exactly, did he need for spaghetti? It seemed simple enough, but, ah...Finally, after a few minutes of thought, in neat script, he jotted down:

Noodles  
Sauce  
Meat ( ? )

...that about did it! He hummed happily, hopped off the bar, and went back to the couch to re-engage himself in the documentary.

**taggianto:**

Sebastian started pulling his shirt over his head as he was halfway down the hallway, giving a short grunt in acknowledgement of Jim's statement. He entered his bathroom and brought one foot up to push the door closed while he started slipping off his pants. There was a basket of various shampoos and soaps sitting on the tank of the toilet, and he grabbed the most basic looking ones. Tap on, hot water, step in, close the glass door. Fuck, this was a nice shower. It even had a touch screen control for the different massage settings. Was there _anything_ in this flat that didn't have touch screen controls?

Sebastian tried out various settings before finally just settling on high water pressure with a subtle massaging pulse. Damn, that felt good. That, combined with the heat of the water soon had his muscles relaxing and his prick twitching. He ignored that for now and just closed his eyes and allowed the water to sheet over his body.

So breakfast had gone well, if a little weird. He sighed. Sebastian Moran, 37 years old, living with a flatmate. Not just any flatmate, mind, his new psychotic boss. His new, psychotic boss who had, on the first night they met, more or less talked him through the best fucking orgasm he'd had in far too long.

His prick twitched again and he shook his head to change the direction of his thoughts.

He managed to get through the shower without having to take care of anything below the belt. Stepping out of the stainless - steel lined glass doors, he rubbed a large, fluffy black towel through his hair and then wrapped it around his waist, heading out into the hall and towards his bedroom.


	8. To market, to market

**Ivanattempts:**

The documentary had gotten boring fast. He had at first been fascinated by it, but the narrator kept repeating himself, and going back to things he'd already gone over, as if Richard hadn't been there eating up every word he'd said. So, he'd picked up the remote and flipped through the channels, settling on some kid's station that only ran low-budget cra- Oh, look, it was _his_ show! Richard sat forward in delight. Oh, when had he gotten on here! His producer hadn't told him this yet! Oh, was it a surprise? He squirmed happily, flushed and eager. Oh...but Sebastian shouldn't see that, right? Jim would get angry, and...oh, well, he'd watch it later, when he was alone or something! He set it to record after fumbling over the remote for a moment - so many buttons! - and hastily changed the channel. Wow, he felt like a right and proper star now!

Delighted by the turn of events, he eventually tossed himself to lay a little haphazardly on the couch, one arm hanging off of it, one leg draped over the back of it, a socked foot, wiggling now and then. Eventually, he settled on some silly sitcom that was filled with stupid jokes that he realized were stupid, but laughed at anyway, just for the sake of laughing, just to keep himself occupied. His thoughts drifted, briefly, to Sebastian in the shower, and he flushed deeply, shaking his head and looking a little nervously around, as if Sebastian - or worse, Jim - might have heard the brief tangent in his head. Biting his lower lip, he tried to get back into the show. He really mustn't think like that, that wasn't like him at all! Why, Sebastian hadn't even asked him to dinner yet, or vice-versa, or...oh, but did offering to make dinner count as asking him? And he had made him breakfast, and...Oh goodness, now he'd gone and gotten himself all flustered.

**taggianto:**

Bedroom door closed, Sebastian draped the wet towel over a metal bar on the walk-in closet's door and crossed to the dresser, intending to pack away some of his clothes as he looked for something to wear. Opening a random drawer he stared in disbelief - it was filled with several expensive-looking button down shirts. Another drawer revealed fresh-pressed slacks and designer jeans. Yet another showed a dizzying array of black athletic clothes. Fuck, another drawer revealed that Jim apparently even knew what sort of pants he wore (boxer briefs).

He had an entirely new wardrobe.

He slipped into a dark maroon pair of pants, the material far softer than any pair he'd ever owned before. He picked out a pair of jeans next - very dark wash with subtle distressing - and pulled them on. They were tight, but not restricting, fitting his body like they were made specifically for him. He caught his reflection in the mirror on the back of the door and he had to admit, they made him look damn good. Even the simple black tshirt he pulled over his head next just felt expensive and _divine_ , soft yet strong.

Well, most of his old clothes would be headed for the trash bins then.  He unzipped one of the duffle bags and started pulling out the guns stashed within.

Ah.

Where would they be keeping these, he wondered? Maybe there was a touch-screen control for hiding them away as well.

"Jim!" he called out as he laid the arsenal out on the bed - his two main rifles, a pair of handguns, an old hunting shotgun that had seen better days, and an assortment of knives. "Jim, come here a second!"

**Ivanattempts:**

Richard was still absorbed with his thoughts, flushed and embarrassed, and it took a few moments for him to realize that Sebastian was calling him. Well, calling _Jim_ , but the man didn't know the difference, so he couldn't fault him for that. Slipping off the couch and fanning himself to try and get rid of the guilty blush on his cheeks, he padded towards the other man's room and paused in the doorway - the sight of the guns made him anxious, terribly anxious, and he considered immediately leaving. He didn't, instead shifting uneasily from foot to foot, eyeing the weapons, and eventually turning his gaze to Sebastian, and...

_Oh_. Well, so much for trying to get rid of that blush. Richard felt it creeping up his neck, and shyly averted his eyes. If the man had looked good before, he looked irresistible now, and he wasn't sure how to cope with it, didn't want to say something stupid. "Y-yes?" A hesitation, and then, goodness gracious, he couldn't help himself. "That looks nice on you." Quiet, soft and sweet, almost a coo from the man's lips, which were tilted up in an almost shy smile. Jim was going to throttle him when he woke up. Oh well. He was sure the other would agree that he looked fantastic, at least. And he smelled good too, the scent of the soaps lingering in the air...Maybe he should go shower too. Yep. A _cold_ one.

**taggianto:**

 "Jesus, Jim. They're just my fucking guns, don't tell me you get off on the sight of _artillery_." Sebastian rolled his eyes and finished pulling a box of ammunition from the duffel bag, piling it on two others on the floor. He paused at the comment about the clothes. A sweetness to the words, and that was just creepy as hell. "Yeah, sure. Look, where am I supposed to keep my equipment? I can't exactly stash it under the mattress." He narrowed his eyes. Was he actually fucking _blushing_?

**Ivanattempts:**

The chastisement embarrassed him terribly, made him jump a little, going all-too-innocently wide-eyed. Get off on...God no! How...lewd! Jim might, but he didn't! It made him terribly anxious to even be in the same room as the things, and, and...Oh God, he wanted him to tell him where things were? But he had no idea! He'd only just really seen the place this morning, never seen Sebastian's room, and...

_Jim!_

It was a panicked thought, and he swallowed, trying to buy time. "Well, you could..."

_Jim, please!_

A stirring in the back of his mind. Reluctant. Annoyed.

"There's always..."

Stammering, trying not to look like a fool, eyes sliding over the walls desperately.

_Jim, I don't know what he wants! Fix it, please!_

The touch to his shoulder nearly made him jump - instead, in that moment, he relaxed. Jim, there with a smile, looking at him, for the briefest of moments. Jim, there to save the day. Jim, there to get him out of another bind. The man moved forward, and Richard watched absently from the doorway as he looked at Sebastian gesturing towards a wall. Vaguely, he wondered how long he had been without his pills, but the sound of Jim's voice drowned it out.

Jim gave the man a smirk, arching an eyebrow - the 'transformation', as it were, was over in a matter of seconds. The man stood straighter, and despite his ridiculous pyjama pants and ruffled hair, he was a force to be reckoned with once more, moving over to a painting, and removing it from the wall.

"Here, Sebby darling, is where you will be keeping your 'equipment'."

A touchpad, no surprise there. A few quick, expert swipes of his finger and there was a soft click. The wall, on well-oiled metal and not a whisper of sound, turned, and showed exactly what the sniper needed - plenty of places to put all his guns, and gun accessories.

Richard lingered in the doorway like a wraith, relieved, blissfully unaware, for the moment, that he was no longer in control of their body. For all he knew, in this instant, they were completely separate people, as they always were in his mind.

**taggianto:**

Jim was stammering, obviously flustered by something and that had Sebastian furrowing his eyebrows. He was just about to ask if he was alright when suddenly his entire demeanor changed. It was as if Sebastian had blinked and there was now a completely different person standing in front of him. His spine was rigid and his eyes were cold, that unsettled gleam back in them that had been missing this morning.

Something was going on here, but Sebastian decided against pressing the matter.

He turned his attention instead to the hidden panel in the wall. Foam-lined shelves and drawers were lit by LED lights embedded in the woodwork. It was. Fuck, it was sexy. And he didn't fail to catch the sarcastic lilt on the word 'equipment.' Perverted creep. "Perfect. Ta."

He stood to analyze the space available, mapping out in his head how he would utilize the various holders. "I'll get these put away and then we can head to the shops, yeah? You get your list done?" he asked with a quick glance over his shoulder before stooping to grab the shotgun from the bed.

**Ivanattempts:**

Jim liked the way the man looked when he caught sight of what a lovely little setup he had. And really, those clothes did look perfect on him - but of course they would. Jim had gotten them tailor made for the other. Everything had to be perfect. He was already making his exit at the words - they gave him pause, and his eyes slid to Richard, who froze, a deer caught in the headlight.

Caught.

"O-oh, he just...offered to go shopping, and I said I would help. I thought you were sleeping in today, so..."

Jim cut him off with a curt nod, not wishing to speak aloud to him - Sebastian didn't know he was there, after all, and even if Richard was under the impression they were both visible, this was by no means the case - and looked over at Sebastian. "Yes. I'll be waiting." Or rather, Richard would. No way was he going to those stupid shops. He would go back to sleep. Richard padded silently after him, head hung like a whipped dog. Once in the kitchen, Jim grabbed Richard by the arm, drug him to the bedroom, and closed the door.

"Richard."

It was a sweet word, cooed, and it made Richard go pale with fright. Jim's eyes narrowed. He reached out, grabbed the other roughly by the face, forced him to look at him. It was to get his attention while the swap happened again. This was how Jim liked Richard - too out of things to realize the truth. Too out of it to realize he could stop this. Too out of it to wonder about those damned pills.

"You've taken a fancy to him." Purred now.

"N-no, it's not, I just..."

Jim cut him off with a look. "Don't lie to me, Rich. You know I hate it when you try." That bruising hand turned softer, sweet caresses that had Richard trembling, but...relaxing.

"Are you mad?"

"No. Not mad. I could never stay mad at you."

That was a lie, but a good one, and one Richard ate up. His need for reassurance was childlike, endearing in a way.

"Promise?"

"Of course."

Jim continued stroking the man's cheek, and it had Richard closing his eyes. He really could _feel_ it...

"I'm going to let you go to the shops. Go, and have a good time."

"Really?"

"Yes. Watch what you say, and...I'll even let you play with Daddy's pet, if you want. But..."

And oh, that grip was back.

"If you tell him about _us_ , Rich, I will make you regret it. He doesn't love you. He _won't_ love you. He is a dangerous man, and if he knew you weren't me, he would eat you up alive. Do you understand?"

Richard was flinching, hurt by the words, but nodding uncertainly.

"Who loves you, Rich? Hmn? Who is the _only_ person who loves you?"

There was no hesitation in the answer. "You."

"Right. Run along now. I'm going back to sleep. I love you, _most_ dearly."

A soft kiss, and Richard found himself holding a bundle of _his_ clothes out in the hallway. He looked dazed, and he shook his head. He wouldn't have long, he needed to shower, and...

He didn't dare think about washing the feeling of Jim's hands away. Into the bathroom he went.

**taggianto:**

Sebastian spent more time than he had intended in setting up the gun storage. Everything had to be just so, laid out to use the available space optimally, the Velcro foam padding fit snug around each piece, holding it in place. When everything was finally organized to his liking, the guns on the shelves and the ammunition in the drawers, he extracted his Browning from its spot and tucked it into the back waistband of his jeans. They were going out. Bodyguard mode.

Rummaging through what remained, Sebastian finally found what he was looking for near the bottom of one of the boxes - his black leather jacket. The new clothes were nice (and he'd taken a peek in the closet after Jim had left - full of suits) but there was no way he was giving up the jacket. He found a pair of sunglasses and slipped them on as well, mirrored lenses, perfect for checking out the store patrons without their knowledge.

Sebastian grabbed his wallet from his bedside table and headed out into the living room. "Jim? You ready yet?"

**Ivanattempts:**

The shower, despite his earlier thoughts, was hot. Very hot. Too hot, actually, but he hardly registered, scrubbing himself near violently from head to toe. Not because of Jim. Nope. No. Of course not. Scrubbed until his skin was sensitive, too sensitive, and he was shivering, turning the heat down, down, off. The cold water was a shock, woke him up, had him gasping, but it was good. Soon, he was out of the shower, damp, cold, trembling, skin still flushed from the vigorous scrubbing. The towel made him whimper, and his clothes were rough against his skin, his cardigan pulled on as an afterthought, a maroon that he couldn't be aware matched the color of Sebastian's underthings. Jim had said to have fun... he could do that. He really was still looking forward to their outing, he liked the shops, and Jim... only meant the best. Only wanted the best for him.

He loved Jim. Really, he did. And Jim loved him too, he'd said so, proved it constantly by taking care of him...

The sound of the other's name had him jumping, rushing, adjusting his clothes and hurrying out of the bathroom. "Oh, um, yes! Yes, I'm ready!" He appeared out of the hallway flushed, hair damp, looking expectantly at the man before grabbing his list and offering it up, scratching the back of his head a bit sheepishly. "Here's my list..." Not that it was complicated, or even really needed to have been written down.

**taggianto:**

As he waited, Sebastian pulled out his phone, flicking to the mobile maps app. Once the satellites had pinpointed his location, he typed in a search for the nearest Waitrose. He had money now, well at least Jim did, so he was damned if he was gonna settle for Tescos.

He heard Jim come out from his bathroom and Sebastian smirked without looking up from his phone. "Bit of a long shower, Jim. Sure you weren't too hot and bothered by my 'equipment,' hmm?" When he finally looked up Jim looked different again. His shoulders were slouched, his eyes were softer. The fuck? Whatever. Grabbing the list from Jim he arched an eyebrow. Spaghetti? Really? For lunch? He glanced at the time. "Well it's getting a bit late, tell you what. We'll grab chips while we're out or something and you can cook for dinner then. Fair?"

**Ivanattempts:**

"O-of course not!" Oh, the comment made it hard not to blush again - was he always like this? No wonder Jim liked him so much...And Jim _did_ like him, Richard could tell. It was just in that twisted way that Jim always had with showing how he felt. Oh well. Richard bit his lower lip as the other inspected his very soft list, and at the mention of getting food for lunch, his shoulders slumped some. Did that mean he wouldn't be making lunch? Did Sebastian not like spaghetti? How rude of him, he should have asked the other man first before assuming, but...

The offer to make dinner had him brightening a bit though, and he nodded with a smile. "Yes, that sounds fine!" He tugged at his cardigan some - the clothes were loose and comfortable, but the jeans fit properly, hugging him just right. Why Jim had given him _these_ , he wasn't sure - usually, he just wore his old faded ones, a little too loose, or... Oh well. They didn't hinder movement, they just _fit_ , and fit _well_. Richard slipped on his shoes, tongue just peeking out of the corner of his mouth as he aimed his feet towards the openings; the shoes were old and worn, nothing special, and he bent over to tie them, not bothering to sit down. When he straightened, he had to adjust his pants, pull them back up where they'd slipped, showing a very bright pair of blue underthings. His tongue disappeared as he looked over at the other, expectant. "Shall we be off then?"

**taggianto:**

There was that blush again. "Uh huh. Sure," Sebastian said, not even trying to sound like he was convinced. He started making notes on Jim's list, adding things of his own when he caught the man's movements out of the corner of his eye. Bending and... fuck those jeans did not leave much to the imagination. Not the Sebastian was imagining, absolutely not. He stared pointedly at the list and tried to remember how to spell "eggs" but he was distracted again by a bright flash of blue. He blinked and it took a second for him to realize that Jim had spoken to him.

What the hell? He was straight, god damn it, where the fuck was this coming from all of a sudden?

"Yeah," he said, voice a bit rough. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Yeah, there's a Waitrose a couple blocks from here. I'm sure there's a chip shop on the way." He turned and headed toward the door, running his hand along the gun in his back waistband as he did so, making sure it was hidden and secured.

**Ivanattempts:**

The other man's gaze was lost on him, as was the rough sound of his voice, though he had to admit it sounded nice, kind of low and raspy, and... The actor swallowed, hard, and smiled at the man, nodding. Ooh, Waitrose. He didn't usually go to those, but... Ah well. Jim would probably be pleased. "Okay, that sounds good!" He trailed after the other man, paused at the door to look at the panel, and press a button. As the door closed, it locked behind them. He knew how to get back in, thank goodness, Jim had graced him with that knowledge, and he slipped around Sebastian to walk in front of him, peering at the stairs. Yes, he wanted to go down those!

"Let's go!" Like a child, he was bouncing down the stairs, two at a time, three at a time, racing down along them so quick it was a wonder he didn't trip. This was something he enjoyed, something Jim never really did unless there was actual danger involved - he liked the rush of blood that came with running, liked the way the his heart pounded in his ears, liked the adrenaline that spiked through his blood. By the time he reached the bottom, he bouncing on the balls of his feet, eager to keep moving, and laughing breathlessly.

**taggianto:**

"Oh for fuck's sake-" Sebastian cursed as Jim took off down the staircase. He got the distinct feeling this would be a regular occurrence - him chasing after Jim. Good thing he was in top shape. He jogged at a steady pace, making sure to keep Jim in his sights, but had to pick up speed when Jim neared the bottom floor, the man was practically sliding down the banister now. When Sebastian reached the bottom, he wasn't even breathing any harder.

He was, however, slightly pissed. "Are you insane? What the hell was that about?" Time to get a little tough. He grabbed Jim's upper arm and spun him around to face him. "Look, you pull a stunt like that when we're out and get yourself shot or stabbed or whatever the hell else, I'm not gonna be a damn bit sorry, understand? Ain't gonna be on my conscience." He released Jim's arm with a small shove and pulled the Browning from his back waistband, finger off the trigger, just letting Jim know he had it on him. "This won't be much help if I'm not nearby when you need your new bloody bodyguard, understand?" Tucking the gun back away, he pushed through the door at the bottom of the stairs, out into the cold November sunlight.

**Ivan:**

The laughter died in his throat as Sebastian arrived at his side, obviously furious. W-what had he done? He'd just run down the stairs, nothing bad, just a little fun, why was the man so mad at him? Whereas Jim would have fought against the grip, Richard did not. He whimpered, cringed, wincing at the tight hold; when he looked up at him, it was with wide, fearful eyes, and for a moment, he looked exactly as Jim had upon waking from the nightmare, and said nightmare was creeping up on him now, the rough grip on his arm, the anger in Sebastian's voice-  
  
No. No, he mustn't let this get to him. No, if Jim knew this scared him, he'd never let him around the man again, and... Richard liked Sebastian, he did. He swallowed hard at the sight of the gun, clamping  
his teeth down on the inside of his cheek so sharply he thought he tasted blood. The frightened actor stumbled when pushed, nearly tumbling to the floor, all grace he had had on the stairs lost, along  
with any semblance of the joy he had expressed at the simple action. He was shivering, shaking as Sebastian walked out, and for a few moments, he didn't follow.  
  
His first instinct was to bolt back up the stairs like a frightened rabbit, to make his way into their apartment, and to go to his room, crawl into their bed, to have Jim comfort him, to tell him everything  
was going to be alright. To tell him the big scary man wouldn't dare lay a truly violent hand on them. Right? Richard didn't know, and didn't want to find out. The excitement he had had to go out to the shops had faded considerably now; he felt miserable, and the cold day looked just as miserable, rather than enchanting, as usual. And Jim hadn't given him a coat. But to return to the apartment meant admitting defeat, admitting to Jim that Sebastian scared him, that he, once again, needed protection.  
  
Shoulders slumped, arms wrapped around himself, hands tucked under his arms for warmth, he stepped outside after Sebastian and followed him silently, muttering a barely audible " 'm sorry, 'Bastian..." He liked that better; "Sebby" was nice, but something about the end of the man's name tripped off his tongue like a gunshot, but in a good way - like fireworks, sparks in his mouth! Not enough to make him smile, though, downtrodden from having upset the man. He just couldn’t do anything quite right, could he?

**Taggianto:**

Sebastian had gotten halfway down the block before he realized Jim wasn't behind him. He turned and waited, hands on his hips, until Jim emerged from their building, shoulders slumped. Shit. He'd have thought Jim could take that. Yes, he got a little rough but shouldn't the man expect that by now? Again, assumptions. A barely audible, mumbled apology... Bastian? He actually kind of liked that. Better than "Sebby" or fucking "Pet" at least.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets as they walked, trying to soften his voice a little. "Look, you hired me to protect you, and I'm just trying to do that. I don't even know what I'm supposed to be protecting you from, after all, since you've thus far failed to elaborate on that point. For all I know you've got master assassins on your tail. So when you go gallivanting off and leave me in the dust it makes me uneasy, okay?" He put his hand on Jim's shoulder briefly, softly, before withdrawing back into his pockets. It was chillier than he'd anticipated, glad he brought his coat, wondering why Jim hadn't grabbed one as well.

They walked in silence for a few blocks until Sebastian spotted a greasy little chip shop - the kind that had the best fish n' chips as long as you didn't ask too many questions. "Hungry?" Sebastian asked, holding the door open for him.

**Ivan:**

The softening of the man's voice did help him to relax a little, calmed his frayed nerves slightly - and the reasoning, he supposed, _did_ make sense. Sebastian was just trying to look out for him, protect him - he had probably been worried when Richard took off like that. Oh, now he just felt bad for doing so. The hand on his shoulder brought a faint twitch of his lips that might have been an uncertain smile, and he glanced up at his bodyguard. Master assassins? Goodness, no. Not yet, anyway, though if Jim had his way... well, Richard didn't want to think about that. Should he tell him? No, he couldn't, not yet... Jim would have his head if he told him now. Too soon. Things weren't ready yet. The whole plan still made him terribly uneasy, frightened, but Jim promised things would be okay for them in the end, and if Jim promised...  
  
"I'm sorry, 'Bastian." A bit stronger now, the smaller keeping his arms around himself, shifting them around from time to time as they walked to try and keep the warmth distributed. His hair was still damp, which certainly wasn't helping with the chill any, but he didn't complain. "I won't do it again. I just...like to run sometimes. Don't you?" An uncertain question, his eyes lifting to the other. The man, he knew, had been a soldier. Jim had informed him of some of the man's past. Surely a man like that could appreciate the heady rush that came from a good sprint? And there really was no danger in the apartment building - as far as he knew, all the people who worked there were under Jim's thumb; _Jim's_ , not Sherlock's. It was all the comfort he had, at least.  
  
The sight of the shop had him turning his head slightly; it was small, and shady looking, but the smell nearly had him drooling already. Jim hated eating at places like this, but to Richard? There was nothing better. He nodded, smiling as Sebastian held the door for him; it was blessedly warm inside, and he let out a soft sound of relief as he stepped in, relaxing and dropping his arms. "Thank you." Murmured, the actor stepping out of the way so Sebastian could join him in the shop.

**Taggianto:**

Following Jim inside and glad for the warmth, Sebastian took a place in the queue behind him. He had an odd temptation, almost a compulsion, to rest a hand on Jim's shoulder, or his arm, but resisted. That was... strange. He shook his head slightly and moved so he was standing next to Jim.

The place was small, but busy, they'd hit it just at the peak lunch rush. He took the opportunity to answer Jim's question. "Running? Yeah, I like a good run in the mornings. Pound out a couple miles before the sun's properly up, the chill's still in the air and the dew's still on the grass. It's nice in the city, but it's better out in the country." Sebastian smiled. God, there was nothing like running a trail through an old forest or along a beach or in the desert, nothing but the stillness of nature around you. It made you feel properly alive, properly connected. A proper human animal.

"We can plan on running in the mornings, if you want. Always better to have a partner," Sebastian said, adding hastily, "A running partner. I'll map out a route, if you'd like." The cashier called them next and Sebastian gave her his order, stepping aside so Jim could order for himself.

**Ivan:**

Richard hummed patiently as they waited in line, his hands in his pockets, peering around at the others in the shop. It really was busy, and all the people made him slightly nervous, honestly...without thought, he was leaning towards Sebastian, closer to him, as if gravitating to the man. As the other came to his side, he relaxed, his proximity seeming a comfort. At the mention of running, he brightened some, nodding. "Yes, I'd love to!" He blurted in delight.  
  
Oh. But that was the wrong answer. He flushed, as if suddenly remembering something - and remember something he did. Jim would be _furious_ if he had to go out running with Sebastian. Jim didn't like running unless something was chasing. He hesitated, faltering a bit, before his shoulders slumped slightly once more. "Um...if I'm feeling well, I mean..." It was nearly whispered, as if it were a secret. That was one way to describe it, anyway. If he was feeling...well, _himself_ , of course he'd love to go. If not, then...Jim would likely curse at the man for trying to wake him, break the alarm clock, and be moody for the rest of the day. He wasn't _really_ telling Sebastian anything - just that some days, he didn't feel well! He could assume anything out of that!  
  
The line, thankfully, came to the register then, and saved him from having to say anything further. He gave the woman his order after Sebastian, and fumbled with his wallet, dragging out some money and dropping some coins. So clumsy. He flushed and bent to pick them up, that flash of blue appearing again before he straightened, pushing the money towards the woman with a sheepish smile. A man behind them was arching an eyebrow and looking him over, but Richard was oblivious; he took the receipt with their order number and glanced at Sebastian before moving towards a booth by a window to await their food.

**Taggianto:**

"If you're not feeling well, that's all the more reason to get out and run," Sebastian said with a wink as Jim finished giving his order. "Making excuses is just a crutch. Don't worry, I can be very persuasive, I'll make sure you're up and motivated." It'd be good to get back into a routine, anyway. Sebastian was still in excellent shape, no doubts there, but his years in the army had conditioned him to rely on routine exercise and training...

Sebastian narrowed his eyes and Jim fumbled with his wallet and the coins. Something was definitely wrong. His mind was just starting to analyze what exactly that could be when there was the flash of electric blue pants and he found it hard to think again. He blinked a few times, glad that Jim was focused on paying for their meals and couldn't see his face. He glanced away and noticed the man behind them very obviously checking Jim out and that had his blood boiling. He sent a glare in the man's direction without even realizing it, and the man was startled slightly, raising his hands in apology.

Sliding into the booth seat opposite Jim, Sebastian did his best to clear his mind of the flashes of blue that kept distracting him. Focus. He drummed his fingers on the cheap laminated tabletop and let his eyes wander around the chip shop. Not that he was avoiding looking at Jim or anything. He was just scanning the room for threats. Yeah, go with that. He caught the sight of the man who'd been behind them, glancing over in Jim's direction again and Sebastian narrowed his own eyes in a threat. The man quickly looked away.

**Ivan:**

Oh. Well. That didn't bode well for not making Jim angry. He flushed uncertainly at the words, unsure of what sort of persuasion a man like Sebastian Moran might employ. He remained oblivious to the exchange between the stranger and the sniper, humming and slipping into the booth across from the man. Idly, he picked up his feet just enough to be able to swing them, humming softly and resting his chin on his hands, eyes drifting from Sebastian to the streets outside. To be honest, he wasn't used to garnering any sort of attention; it was always Jim in his crisp suits, with his dangerous air, that drew eyes. Richard was mild-mannered and soft; once he'd had a mysterious stranger pay for his dinner, and that had been a treat! But other than that, flirting was....well, a bit beyond him, honestly. He didn't know how to even begin to go about it without creating an entirely new shade of red.

"What do you like to do, 'Bastian?" The name was almost an affectionate one now, and he liked it, might just stick to it. The question was a sudden one, dark eyes sliding back to land on the other who seemed to be very pointedly not looking at him. Why? Was there some reason? Did he look particularly embarrassingly out of fashion today? Jim had given him his clothes though, so that must have meant it was okay to wear them, and...Oh well. "I mean, when you're not working or hunting or anything. When you have free time? Do you ever have free time?" And suddenly, he seemed embarrassed, bringing a hand to his lips as if to eat the words. "Not that I...I was just saying...I mean, I'm just curious...Sorry, I'll shut up now." Glum, he turned to look out the window again. Idiot. Couldn't even ask a simple question. No wonder Jim insisted on doing all the talking. No wonder Jim was the successful one. If Richard didn't have the lines memorized, he was a fish out of water, flopping gracelessly, a terrific failure.

**taggianto:**

"I'd have thought you'd know all my habits, seeing as you seemed to know just about everything else about me when we first met." Sebastian arched an eyebrow. This wasn't the Jim who'd met him at the criterion and had him agreeing to work for him before he even realized what was happening. He really needed to find out what the fuck was going on here, but that was not a conversation for a crowded chippy.

Perhaps it was just another game. A way to get into Sebastian's head. Lure him into a false sense of security. That seemed more like it.

He finally forced himself to look at Jim. "Don't have much time for hobbies, honestly. Being good at. Well. What you hired me for, _Boss_ , requires a lot of practice and training." He sat back against the booth and stretched out his long legs beneath the table. "Though I do enjoy a good round of pool down the pub." He grinned at that. Snipers basically lived for angles and trajectories. Needless to say, he was as much a crack shot with a cue as he was a revolver.

**Ivanattempts:**

The words... upset him a little, honestly, though he tried not to let it show. Since the man thought he was Jim, he'd continue treating him that way, and always be confused when he didn't know something. Maybe Richard should just stop asking questions. Maybe he should just start being quiet, and let the man wonder what he would. He certainly wasn't doing anyone any favors my continuing to talk, it seemed. "I'm allowed to ask questions." It was as much an unhappy statement to Sebastian as a reminder to himself. No, it wasn't fair that Jim got to do everything. Even if he wasn't as impressive, he was still a person, and it wasn't fair for him to just be cut out of the equation. Being called "Boss" didn't sit well with him either, but if that's what Jim wanted, Richard wouldn't fuss, for now.

Maybe if he offered something about himself, it would spark conversation? He had to be careful though - whatever he offered, Jim would be stuck with, and he knew that, didn't want to displease the man. "I bet you're very good at it. I've never played pool." Which was honest enough. He was too clumsy for it, and Jim didn't want the chalk on his clothes. "I like to read and watch movies, o-or, um... bake." The word slipped out before he could stop it. But it was true, he did like to bake. Not much, but he was a fair hand at cookies and brownies and cupcakes and other sweets. Luckily, the waitress saved him from further humiliation, came up with their food, and he thanked her with a bright smile that had her smiling back. That was one thing with Richard - when he looked at a person, he had a way of _only_ looking at them, as if they were the only person in the room, and he only had eyes for them. The waitress, at least, seemed flattered.

**taggianto:**

"Oh, no, I'm lousy at it," Sebastian said with a wink and a gleam in his eyes. "At least that's what I have people believing until they start betting with real money." Hustling had put more than one meal on Sebastian's table, and several roofs over his head.

He gave the waitress a curt nod as she brought their meals and then watched Jim as he thanked her, a warm, easy smile taking over his entire face. He just seemed so genuinely happy that that it was infectious. Sebastian found himself smiling involuntarily because of it, his stomach doing an odd flip.

He did his best to clear the look from his face once she left, turning his attention to the basket in front of him. The fish was far too hot to eat yet, so he munched on a few chips before turning back to conversation. "Movies, eh? I'm pretty out of it when it comes to the new stuff, though I'll watch a good action flick if it comes on the Telly late at night." He tested the fish, still too hot. "Though anything with Clint Eastwood's usually a good bet," he said, gesturing at Jim with a chip before stuffing it in his mouth.

**Ivanattempts:**

Lousy at it? Oh. The wink had him grinning a bit. Not that he expressly approved of such, but it was still rather interesting, and he bet Sebastian got one over on people a lot. Not the most charming of hobbies, but he couldn't really be annoyed about it, all things considered. When the waitress left, he looked happily at his food, and waited patiently for it to cool some, fanning it idly with one hand as Sebastian spoke. Once more, he held Richard's full attention, and the man seemed to hang on every word.

"I couldn't tell you what happens in most of them, honestly. I love to watch them, but mostly because I'm an a-"

The words died in his throat, and to cover the lapse, he pushed a too hot chip into his mouth, chewing and swallowing hard, wincing at the burn on his tongue. He'd almost said 'actor'. No, no, not allowed. He tried again, doing his best to run damage control. "A-an avid movie watcher. But sometimes, the flat gets too quiet, so I put it on just to have it running." He was smiling again, taking a sip of his drink to ease the pain in his mouth. It subsided some, and he shrugged slightly. "I'd like to go to the theater sometime... I haven't been in a long time." A very long time. He couldn't afford to. The words were thoughtless, and he idly ate another chip, more slowly this time; he was obvious oblivious to the implications of stating such to the man in front of him, and instead let his eyes drift around the shop, where they landed on the man that had been in line behind them. The man made eye contact, and smiled, and Richard automatically smiled back. Why not? It was so nice to see people smiling at him! After a moment, he went back to his food, nibbling here and there at it; idly, he set his feet down, tired of swinging them, and was a bit surprised to find himself brushing ankles with the man in front of him. He blinked a little, obviously aware of the touch, and looking ready to apologize. Instead, he settled with their ankles lightly crossed, and averted his eyes, continuing to eat quietly.

**taggianto:**

"Fuck, I can’t even remember the last time I've been to the actual theater." He pulled a corner of his mouth down in thought. No, seriously, what _was_ the last time? "Must have been when I was with Cassidy," he murmured, half to himself. Cassidy had been his last, well, for lack of a better term, girlfriend. She made him dinner before they fucked, that was the extent of their domesticity. "I think it was some Batman movie, maybe that first Christian Bale one... Shit, has it really been that long?"

Sebastian broke his fish in half to speed the cooling, looking around the table for the vinegar. When he looked up he saw Jim smiling at someone and automatically followed his line of sight.

Oh hell no.

Once Jim had gone back to his food he held the other man's gaze and very deliberately lifted the back of his jacket an inch or two so the man could see what was hidden below. The asshole's eyes flew wide and he hastily started cleaning up his half-eaten fish. Sebastian grinned and dropped his jacket. He hadn't even noticed Jim's ankles settling on his own. It was a moment or two before he _did_ notice, when Jim shifted slightly and Sebastian became aware of the contact. He immediately pulled away. "Sorry," he mumbled, going back to pointedly not looking across the table.

**Ivanattempts:**

Cassidy? There was a sinking in his gut that he tried not to think about. A simple "Oh" was all he uttered, and he shook his head some, quiet for several moments. "...I went alone." He didn't look up as he said it, going back to eating quietly. Jim didn't really... have dates. Richard tried not to think about what he _did_ have, or the clubs they had been in, or whose hands had been on him - it took all he had to suppress a shudder. As for Richard himself? Well, he'd once tried to ask someone out at his work. She had smiled, patted him on the cheek, and asked to remain friends. She didn't come to work the next week - sometimes, Richard pondered over what may have happened to her, but refused to think too deeply on it. Oh well.

When Sebastian shifted and pulled his ankle away, there was a brief flash of disappointment on his face, which he tried to hide by ducking his head down to sip at his drink again. "I didn't mind." And then he was eating again, looking out the window, watching the people walking by. Nothing all that interesting, but putting his mind on other things kept him from blushing. He nibbled at his food, a slow eater, just picking here and there at things. What now? He was no good at this. Maybe Jim had known that. Maybe that was why he had let him go. A lesson. No, no, Jim wouldn't do that, right? Jim had let him go because he believed in him, right?

Somehow, he wasn't too terribly convinced.

**taggianto:**

"Alone? Surely someone with your connections could have at least _hired_ someone to go with you." He smirked, but only half-heartedly. The snark, the comments that came so hard and fast the past couple days were falling flat now... It almost didn't seem fair, Jim wasn't fighting back, wasn't throwing comments back in Sebastian's face like he had been. What had started out feeling like a tennis match was beginning to feel like a one-sided volley.

And truth be told, Sebastian hadn't minded the contact either, but he knew he _should_ mind. Or should mind that he didn't mind. Or something. Fuck this was complicated. He was straight, god damn it, so why did Jim have to be so fucking sweet and like. Vulnerable right now? Warning lights flashed in Sebastian's head. All he could think was TRAP. Somehow this was a TRAP.

Increasingly, Sebastian was wondering if it would be so bad to be caught.

He attacked his food with abandon, the fish having finally come down to normal Earth temperatures, as he tried to think of something to change the subject to. Nothing came to mind, though, and the silence stretched out.

**Ivanattempts:**

Hire someone? Yeah, he supposed Jim could have arranged that. What a miserable way to spend an evening though, going to the movies with someone who was only there because you paid them. Too much of a socially inept numbskull to find anyone who genuinely wanted to be there with him; and besides that, as soon as they met Jim they'd either run screaming, or like him better, so what did it matter? All he really had was Jim. So, then again, to be fair, he supposed he didn't go alone. Not really. He went with Jim. Not that Jim had been awake for most of it. He got so bored with movies, figured out the whole plot before it was halfway done, and spoiled it for Richard. He didn't like watching movies with Jim.

As the silence stretched on, he seemed to get increasingly uncomfortable, awkward, eating for a while, but eventually seeming to lose his appetite, merely poking at the food now. Wasn't there anything interesting he could say? Any hobbies or anything? No, not really. Acting had become his hobby; between acting for the show, and working for Sherlock, he didn't really actually have a lot of time for hobbies anymore. Nothing interesting, anyway. Besides, what could _he_ do that would interest Sebastian? Finally, the man was pushing his food away and looking out the window, dark eyes half-hidden behind his lashes. There was still a good amount of food left, but he just couldn't bring himself to want it. Without thought, he was brushing his thumb across his lower lip worriedly - _that_ was his habit, one of his own instead of a mirror of Jim's. Back, and forth, a subtle friction, a simple movement that he didn't even seem to register.

**taggianto:**

Sebastian finished his fish, using the last of his chips to soak up the remaining vinegar and salt. Jim had stopped eating some time ago and was just staring out the window. Eyes half-shut. Rubbing his... lips. Sebastian ran his tongue along his own before he realized he'd been staring. He shook his head and glanced at Jim's half-finished basket. Well, at least that much hadn't changed from the other night. "Had enough? Come on, let's head out." He stood and brushed a few crumbs from the front of his jeans, running a hand along his back, reassuring himself the gun was still hidden. Mr. Stares-a-lot was long gone, which had Sebastian smirking as he waited for Jim to snap out of his trance.

**Ivanattempts:**

The sudden sound of Sebastian's voice after the long silence had him blinking, turning to stare at the man for a moment, still seeming lost in thought; then he blinked a few times, smiling at Sebastian and nodding. "Right, sorry." He slid out of the booth and brushed himself off as well, slipping his hands back in his pockets and humming softly. After leaving the woman a tip - probably more than she should have gotten - he led the way this time, a little bounce in his step. He felt better for having eaten, even if the attempt at conversation had been a flop. Richard snagged the door this time, opening it and shivering at the cold that rushed in to greet him; it gave him pause, made him give a little gasp, soft. He stepped to the side to allow Sebastian out, and stepped onto the street. For the first few minutes, he seemed fine - and then the cold began to sink in again, and he slid his arms around himself once more. Really, why _had_ Jim sent him out without a jacket? That wasn't very nice of him at all.

**taggianto:**

Sebastian had his phone out and was checking the map screen again as they exited the chip shop. "Right, two blocks up, one block left," he said, gesturing with his phone in one hand. He heard the soft gasp as Jim opened the door and his mind helpfully supplied other _instances_ that sounds like that could be made to escape the human body. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket and gritted his teeth, blocking them out.

His pace was quick - fuck, it felt like it was getting COLDER as the day went on. He pulled out the list and looked it over. "What kind of meat do you want to get? It just says... ‘meat’..." Sebastian said finally, glancing over at Jim. He narrowed his eyes. Was he... shivering?

**Ivanattempts:**

Richard hurried to keep up with the man's longer strides, his breath fogging the air slightly. He merely nodded at the directions, glancing around; people all bundled up, scarves, gloves, the whole bit - Jim had simply given him his cardigan, small comfort in this kind of cold. Was he teasing him? This was a bit of a mean way to do so if he was. He knew Jim hated the get up, but it was comfortable, and he liked it, and he didn't fuss about those stupid suits!

"U-um...the kind that goes in spaghetti..." Stuttered out slightly, the words quick and unsteady. "B-beef?" A question, not a sure thing; his lips tripped over the word because, he was, indeed, shivering. His lips shook, and his teeth chattered, though he tightened his jaw to try and keep them still; he trembled as they walked, but made no comment on the cold, didn't dare to complain. He didn't want the other to worry, really...

**taggianto:**

"Well, spaghetti's just a pasta _shape_ , not a meal in and of itself," Sebastian said, nodding his head slightly and gesturing with his hands still in their pockets as he spoke. "So you can put anything on it you want. Depends on what kind of sauce you were planning on making. Beef would go good in a marinara, chicken or scallops if you were planning on throwing together an alfredo, though that would mean we'd need to pick up some aged parmesan and heavy cream. Unless you just want to do a reduced garlic butter sauce? In which case lobster would be divine..." Sebastian was salivating despite having just eaten. Oh, it had been too long since he'd had a proper culinary budget to work with. Since he had the opportunity to actually _make_ some of the dishes he drooled over in online forums.

He glanced over, anticipating Jim's answer and he caught the man's teeth chattering. Frowning slightly, he scanned the street they were on and spotted a high-end clothing store a few storefronts down. "Come on," he said throwing an arm around Jim's shoulders (for warmth, only for warmth, didn't need the man getting sick cuz he could pretty much guess who'd be taking care of him if he did) and directed him toward the shop. "You need a coat."

**Ivanattempts:**

"I...uh..." Richard was taken aback by the man's knowledge of foods, suddenly a lot less sure of his skill in cooking. What if Sebastian didn't like it? He was obviously a much better cook between the two of them, and it made him a little hesitant to even try. "I was just thinking, um...red sauce?" Another question, uncertain. He...thought that was marinara, but he didn't want to make himself sound stupid by guessing the wrong one, and...Vaguely, he wished Jim were here instead. Jim would know what to say, and do.

The arm draped around his shoulders surprised him, and he blinked, looking up at Sebastian for a brief moment - he thought to protest in embarrassment, but...instead, he simply huddled a little closer to the other, thankful for the warmth, eyes closing for just a moment to revel in the feeling of it. At the sight of the store though, he shook his head some. He didn't want any more fancy clothes, Jim had so many. He just wanted something soft, and cozy, and warm. His eyes landed on a thrift shop, filled with second-hand things - and coats, big warm ones, and he pointed there. "C-can....can we go there instead?" A hesitant request; Jim would be mad, but...well, everything made Jim mad, and it was his own fault for sending him out without a coat! As he waited for a response, he pressed just a little closer, leaning his head ever so slightly against Sebastian's shoulder. It was...comfortable. Cuddly, almost. Warm, and nice, the weight of the man's arm around his shoulders a pleasing one.


	9. Gingerbread Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *points to archive warnings*

**taggianto:**

Sebastian arched an eyebrow, flicking his gaze between the two shops, confused. "Uh. Yeah, sure, I guess..." He shifted their path toward the second-hand shop. He felt Jim curl into his touch slightly and his mind immediately went back to the night before, the nightmare, Jim had been moving into his touch then too, until for some reason he stopped. Maybe someday this shit would start making sense.

He pushed through the door, a myriad of jingling bells heralding their entrance. As soon as they were inside, Sebastian dropped his arm from Jim's shoulders. "Go find a coat so you don't catch a fucking cold, alright? I'll be over here." He pointed to the electronics area, specifically the DVD movie rack.

**Ivanattempts:**

It was a pleasant walk, and he was happy with it, warmer at the man's side - the moment they were inside though, Sebastian dropped his arm, and Richard felt the loss of it perhaps more poignantly than was appropriate. He swallowed a little at the instructions, nodding some and moving off towards the racks. There were plenty to choose from, no concerns there, and he began pushing through them, looking them over. To be honest, the entire process didn't take very long at all - once he eliminated the ones that were too thin or too bulky or worn out, there wasn't a huge selection left.

He wound up selecting a very simple jacket, thick, but not too thick, soft on the outside and inside, and made of a very warm material. It was simple, a dark grey, and there were buttons that made it look more elegant, so maybe Jim wouldn't mind so much...He took it to the counter and smiled, paying for it and slipping it on instead of bothering with a bag. Stuffing the receipt in his pocket, Richard set off for the other man, peering at him from around a stack of things, smiling sweetly. "'m all done now!"

**taggianto:**

Sebastian thumbed through the titles, mostly low-budget crap that no one wanted anyway, which is how it ended up here. Near the bottom though, he found one with Clint Eastwood's name on the spine. _Million Dollar Baby_. Hmm, seemed to be about a boxing chick. Might be good.

He looked up at the sound of Jim's voice. He was all ready to make some snide comment about thrift-store quality when he paused. Actually, the coat looked rather good on him. Simple, yet cut well, it suited Jim. Well, the Jim that was here with him now, not exactly the suit-wearing, armed-gunman-taunting, perverted-text-message-sending Jim he'd first met.

"Uh... 's nice," he managed, before holding up the DVD case. "Wanna pick this up? I've not seen it but it won a shit ton of awards, apparently."

**Ivanattempts:**

Richard allowed the man to look him over, smiling uncertainly. He put his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels a little, tipping his head as the man held up a movie. "Sure; I've never seen it before." And then he blinked a little; Sebastian was going to watch a movie with him? He was reminded of his thoughts earlier in the morning, about dinner, and now a movie, and he turned around so the man wouldn't see him blush. He fumbled and pulled out his wallet, careful of his ID - he hadn't thought to pick up Jim's, the fake one Sherlock had had made, so his ID, the legal one, was the only one he had on him. Oops. He would have simply handed Sebastian the wallet so he didn't have to deal with it if it weren't for that. Ah well.

Humming softly, he put the money down on the counter after telling the woman which movie they wanted - it was only a couple of bucks, no big deal really - and then he turned to Sebastian with another of his warm, just-for-you smiles. "Should we go now, 'Bastian? I wanna hurry home so we can watch it."

**taggianto:**

Sebastian caught the raised eyebrows and knowing look the woman behind the counter was throwing in his direction and he was about to scowl back at her, but then Jim was smiling at him the way he'd smiled at that waitress and he found he didn't really care what the cashier thought.

"Yeah, come on, let's go." Slipping the DVD into his pocket, Sebastian headed for the exit. "Store's just up on the next block." He held the door for Jim again, heading toward their final destination.

The automatic glass doors slid open with a muffled swish, and a blast of radiant heat hit Sebastian's face as he entered. Grabbing a hand basket from a rack by the door - they weren't getting enough stuff to really warrant the use of a cart, after all they had to be able to carry all this crap back to the flat (Sebastian still wasn't calling it _home_ in his mind though). The stainless steel shelves were lined with all manner of delicacies, packed and wrapped in containers that had probably won some graphic design firm a great deal of awards. Sebastian pulled out the list. "Right, well we'll want to leave the meat for last, get the non perishables first." He rattled off a few items from the list, including Jim's 'noodles' and headed into the store, scanning the signs above the aisles.

**Ivan:**

The look from the cashier was lost on him, and he smiled at Sebastian again as the other man held the door open for him; he liked that, it was such a gentlemanly gesture from someone he...really wouldn't expect such from. The cold was much less of an obstacle now, and he huddled in his jacket, the shivers gone-he was much warmer, though he did honestly consider continuing to shiver, just to see if the other man would wrap an arm around him again. His cheeks flushed with warmth-it could easily be dismissed as flushed from the cold, though, surely. Richard walked beside Sebastian, humming some to himself; and then the store was in sight.

Stepping inside, he looked around; everything looked so...fancy. He bit gently at his lower lip, but said nothing, simply nodding when Sebastian started naming things off the list. It all sounded fine to him; as they began to make their way through the shop, he tried to avoid the looks of the other customers-was something wrong? Did they know he shouldn't be in here? In all reality, no one was really paying them too much attention. He was just nervous in the midst of such a nice place. Only one or two people gave them second looks, and he caught one girl staring at Sebastian; without hesitating he stepped closer, eyeing her warily. It was unusual for him, but...but, well, he just didn't like the look of her! Up to no good, he was sure! And they had a date! Wait, n-no, not a date, just a, um...they were just having dinner together, and watching a movie together, and...oh gosh.

However, he seemed only to be good at picking up the looks directed at his companion-he completely missed the ones shot towards him every now and then, especially when he stretched up or leaned down to gather things he spotted from the list. He always found them and trotted over to Sebastian, oblivious to the stares, seeming delighted he'd been the first to find them, eager to help. And then....then he spotted them. His eyes went wide, and he moved over to the display, gasping some.

"'bastian. We have _got_ to get some of these." It took all he had to _not_ press his nose against the glass containing the gingerbread men. As a woman moved over to serve him, he seemed giddy, turning that look on the woman, who seemed to melt under it, almost as excited as he was to help him. "Oh, oh, um...just one...or two....or....”

Richard wound up with an entire bag of them, and only paid for about half. He held the bag in delight, and turned to show them to the other man. "She gave me so many free, 'bastian! Wasn't that nice of her?"

**taggianto:**

Sebastian was in culinary heaven. Aisle after aisle of top-of-the-line ingredients - imported oils, aged cheeses, every type of flour under the sun. The fresh herb display alone had him salivating. And then there was the butcher display. Fuck, it was sexy. The finest cuts of tender beef, lamb, veal, bison... and chicken and turkey and pork... He sent Jim off to grab whichever type of noodles he wanted while he pondered the meats.

A doe-eyed brunette in heels that were really far too tall for everyday grocery shopping stepped up beside him (close beside him) as he looked over the display. "You look like a man who knows his meats," she said, leaning slightly closer to him and pointing at the display.

Sebastian looked her over. Tall, but still shorter than he was. Fit, not anorexic. Long hair pulled into a tight ponytail, bright red lips, shirt that was cut far too low for the temperatures outside. In short, exactly his type. He smirked. "I know a fair bit," he said, very deliberately glancing down.

"I'm looking for a good sausage," she said, toying with an errant curl of her hair. "Any suggestions?"

Slipping a hand into his pocket, Sebastian turned to face her, about to answer when Jim showed up, proudly displaying his spoils from the cookie counter. "That's... nice, Jim," Sebastian said. "Why don't you go grab some tomato paste for the sauce, I'm still trying to pick out the meat." He arched and eyebrow and quickly glanced to the brunette and back to Jim. A subtle _go-the-fuck-away-I've-got-a-shot-here_ in the look.

_taggianto: (( don't hate me XD ))_

_Ivanattempts: (Omfg, this is not going to end well. XD)_

_taggianto: (( *grin* ))_

_Ivanattempts: (I am trying so hard to not let him have a fucking tantrum in the middle of the store, omg.)_

**Ivanattempts:**

The moment Richard turned, he spotted the woman; close to Sebastian, too close. A pang of something like jealousy - jealousy? Why was he jealous? - hit him hard, and he moved closer. At the dismissal, his lips tugged down. Did he...really _want_ her? His eyes slid to her, and his lips curled with distaste. The cookies sat forgotten in his arms, and he narrowed his eyes some at her, looking her over. If he had thought that other girl was up to no good, he _knew_ this one wasn't. Why? Why would Sebastian want _her_? She was _easy_. Richard himself could probably have her if he wanted - which he _didn't_ , that was _disgusting_.

The words were falling from his lips before he could stop them, looking her over. "Lipstick smeared, and she smells like booze. Rough morning, sweetheart? Wake up next to someone you didn't want to? I imagine so, since those are the same clothes you wore last night. Nice stamp, by the way, but that's a trashy club. If you cleaned up, you could _maybe_ do better. Trying to pick someone up in a grocery store, really? A little pathetic, isn't it?" The words were cruel and sharp, nonchalant, and Richard's face was a little blank as he said them, lips vaguely turned up in a familiar smirk. His eyes slid to Sebastian. "If you want to see her naked so badly, pet, she'll be working at the club downtown later tonight."

The sudden outburst _appalled_ him. It didn't sound like him at all, it sounded like...it sounded like the man who now casually had his arms around his waist, head cocked to one side, sneering a bit; when had Jim gotten here? When had he shown up? The man was purring in his ear, and he couldn't help but continue.

"I _did_ warn you about women like that." Richard was turning, moving off to grab the pasta sauce as instructed; Jim laughed in his ear, and he tried not to be sick on the floor of the grocery store. How could he have _said_ such things? He wanted to apologize, this instant, but Jim was dragging him along, and he didn't have a choice. Jim always had been stronger. Why had he said such horrid things? Oh God, Sebastian would never forgive him.

_Ivanattempts: (Richard!Muse was like "I CAN'T WHY IS HE DOING THIS W-WEHH" and Jim was like "UM EXCUSE YOU BITCH THAT IS OURS")_

_taggianto: (( XD i just feel bad for richard cuz he's gonna be SO FUCKING EMBARASSED ))_

_Ivanattempts: (Oh, God, yes, he's already mortified about it. XD)_

**taggianto:**

Sebastian stared in disbelief as the words came tumbling out of Jim's mouth. He was gonna get whiplash from this man's mood swings. Jim turned to leave at the same time as the brunette stalked off in a huff (although now that Jim had pointed it out he could see what he meant...)

A voice sounded from behind the meat counter. "Hey buddy, what do you want?"

Sebastian just shook his head. "A normal life?" he muttered before stalking after Jim.

He caught up with the man as he was looking through the cans of tomato products. He crossed his arms and spoke in a harsh, hissing whisper. "You want to explain to me what exactly that was that just happened back there Mr. Ooh-look-I-have-cookies-isn't-life-wonderful-oh-wait-now-I'm-a-snarky-fucking-bastard?"

**Ivanattempts:**

Richard felt sick. He was pale, shaking, obviously upset. "J-Jim, that was _horrible_." Muttering miserably to himself, staring blankly at the cans of sauce. Couldn't concentrate on them in the slightest. Jim was still laughing, pleased with his show. Richard was hugging his cookies tightly, lower lip trembling. "Stop laughing! Why do you always have to be like that?!" It wasn't even a question, but an accusation, and Jim's laughter stopped abruptly. The look Richard earned with the words was sharp, almost a snarl - and then Jim's head was cocking to the side, listening. Richard turned to look at whatever had caught his attention, and...oh, God, Sebastian looked _livid_ , and why shouldn't he be? He nearly took a step back from him, eyes widening at the sharp hissing. His lips worked soundlessly for a few moments, like a fish caught out of water, and Jim, that bastard, was nowhere to be seen. Of course he didn't want to help with the aftermath. His cheeks colored in shame and embarrassment, and he finally looked quickly away, fumbling with pocket before fishing out a wallet - he had just enough sense to snag his ID out of it before throwing it into the basket Sebastian was holding.

"Forget it. Sorry." He muttered unhappily, biting hard at his lower lip. "I'm going home. Get whatever you want. I don't care." He couldn't stand this, couldn't stand in here, couldn't be here. He hadn't brought his anxiety pills and he was on the verge of an attack, shaking, and he hastily stepped around Sebastian, exiting the aisle, and weaving his way through the place. He threw the receipt for the cookies at the one person who tried to stop him, and walked miserably out into the cold.

It was a little refreshing to his heated skin, and he sniffed some, wrapping his arms around himself. Why did Jim always have to mess things up? Why did that stupid girl have to come along? Why? They'd been having such a nice day. Wasn't Richard allowed to have nice things too? He swallowed, hard, starting to trudge his way home. The man swiped at his eyes with an absent sleeve, gaze to the ground - and he nearly spilled his cookies, letting out a little sound of surprise as he ran smack into someone, stumbling back and falling to land hard on the sidewalk. He winced, but otherwise seemed unharmed, glancing up some to be greeted by a very concerned - and smug, though he didn't pick up on that - looking man.

"Hey, are you alright? Oh... hey! I saw you earlier, at the chip shop! Terribly sorry!"

Richard blinked a little up at him, nodding vaguely - right... the man who had smiled at him. He tried to offer him a shaky smile now, but it was a poor attempt.  "Right... hullo again... sorry I ran into you..." And he was shifting, but the man offered him a hand up - and hesitantly he took it. The man lingered with their hands together longer than Richard was comfortable with, but...

"Oh...you don't look so good. Weren't you with a bigger guy?" The man was raising a hand to about Sebastian's height, and Richard glanced away. The guy seemed to soften, lips twitching up. "Oh. Have a bit of a domestic?"

"I-I'm not so sure I should be talking about this with you, um... I-I should be getting home, and..."

"Aww, what's the rush? Come on, you could come over and have a spot of tea with me, I know just what would make you feel better."

Richard didn't like the tone of his voice, tried to tug his hand away. The man held firm. "N-No, I really can't, I have to get home..." A little frightened now, panic making him squirm, try to tug harder away. The guy was trying to make excuses now, half dragging him down the street.

**taggianto:**

Sebastian watched as Jim stormed out of the aisle and he threw his hands up in defeat. Grabbing a few cans of tomato paste and chucking them into the basket a bit harder than necessary, Sebastian muttered to himself on the way to the checkout. What the hell had he gotten himself into? He'd signed up to shoot people, that was what he was good at, and so far he hadn't so much as thrown a punch.

And he _still_ hadn't gotten paid.

The lines at the checkout were anything but short, but Sebastian was confident his longer strides would have him catching up with Jim with relative ease. He paid for the few bags of groceries with a very exclusive-looking credit card and made his way out into the cold, headed home.

He walked along the sidewalk, bags in both hands, scanning the street for a sign of Jim. He frowned slightly, hoping the man hadn't taken a different route home. "Jim?" he called out once panic started to set in and he was certain he should have seen him by now. "Boss?"

**Ivanattempts:**

"P-please, look, I just want to go home, please..." Richard was nearly begging now - the grip on his wrist, it _hurt_ , he was sure at this point he'd have a bruise. Sure, Jim could show up to talk trash to a girl, but he couldn't show up now?! Had he... had he made him mad? If he hadn't been panicking before, he was now - they were taking a turn, and he struggled a little, shaking his head. The guy wasn't speaking anymore, still just smirking - he looked _terrifying_. When he tried to slip away, the man snatched violently at him, and he yelped, some of the gingerbread men spilling from the bag. He was barely holding onto it now, too anxious to be too concerned about the cookies.

"Please, please." Whimpered, and the man was literally dragging him now, his shoes scuffing and scraping against the sidewalk. This... this was like some bad b-rate movie. Things like this just _didn't_ happen to normal people!

But he wasn't normal, was he? God, sometimes he wished he was.

A sharp turn down a deserted alley finally dislodged the bag from his hand, and he turned his head some, looking at it, hand reached out as if to grab it. He didn't get a chance to. At the end of the alley, he was pushed against the wall, and he whimpered, turning his head some. "Th-this doesn't look like your home...I-I thought we were going for tea?" A feeble attempt, and the guy wasn't having it; the man had his face was turning it towards him, and Richard resisted, trying to stall for...for what? For someone to rescue him?

Jim had made Sebastian angry. He had made Jim angry. He swallowed, hard, trying to push the man away. "Please, don-!"

His protest was swallowed in a bruising kiss.

**taggianto:**

Sebastian was on alert now. He'd doubled back along the route twice, wasting precious minutes. Jim was nowhere to be seen. He'd lost him. He'd fucking lost him, let him walk out and lost him. If anything happened...

He doubled his efforts, looking for any sign he could see of Jim. He was about to turn a corner when he saw it. A single gingerbread cookie in the middle of the street, flattened by a passing car. Another, half a block away, by a trash can on the corner of a side street Sebastian had passed twice now.

The shopping bags crashed to the sidewalk and he took off in a sprint.

He rounded the corner of the street and scanned the sidewalk, nothing... nothing... there! A pile of cookies and a bag tumbling down the street in the chilly air. Sebastian could hear the sounds of a struggle from the alleyway as he raced down the deserted street, drawing and cocking his Browning in one fluid motion. He slammed a shoulder against the corner of the alley entrance. Definitely a struggle. A deep calming breath, Sebastian closed his eyes for a moment, then snapped them back open and rounded the corner.

Jim.

Sebastian's heart leapt to his throat. Jim. Being assaulted.

He flipped the safety with an audible click and pointed the barrel directly at the rapist's head. "Hands off him, right now you fucker, or I'll shoot."

**Ivanattempts:**

Oh God, why was this _happening?_ The kiss was sloppy, disgusting, and he thought he might throw up. Not a bad idea, maybe it would get the guy off him. He was pushing, shoving, trying to get the other man off him, but as seemed to always be the case, Richard was out of luck; he was bigger, he was stronger, and the smaller man was being pressed hard into that wall. The buttons of that 'new' coat of his were being undone, and the man's hands were _everywhere_.

The whimpers that left were loud, terrified, and he could hardly breathe, smothered by the sheer presence of the man in front of him - those hands sliding into the jacket, up his shirt, exposing his stomach to the cold air. "Stop, please stop, please!" His mouth was briefly released when the man went to his throat instead, and he felt him sucking an ugly mark into the skin there. He shoved, struggled, fought - and then... then a click, soft as a sigh, and his eyes turned, wide, and dark, and terrified on Sebastian. He'd come. He'd come for him.

The man was startled by the words, straightening - suddenly, he had plenty to say, lots of 'He wanted it's spewing from his lips; that was the final straw, and Richard sent a knee into his gut, whimpering, pushing past him rushing over to Sebastian. He ducked under the gun to throw his arms around the man's waist, hiding his face against his chest, curling under the protection of his arm. "I want to go home." It was barely audible, muffled, and the man was shaking, disheveled, fingers curling in Sebastian's clothes as if he feared he might disappear if he let go. "Please, please 'bastian, I wanna go home."

**taggianto:**

There were words coming from the attacker's mouth, excuses, whimpering, and with each utterance Sebastian's blood just continued to boil. Then Jim kneed him, sending him to the ground and he was rushing over. He was there. He had him. Sebastian took one hand off the gun grip and wrapped it tightly around Jim's shoulders. He could feel him shaking, hear the break in his voice.

That was the final straw.

"Cover your ears," he murmured to Jim as he took careful aim at the figure still hunched in the snow. He drew in a deep steadying breath, then slowly, steadily pulled on the trigger. A sharp crack that echoed through the alleyway, bouncing and reverberating around the confined space. A spray of crimson exploding from the attacker's shoulder, a cry of agony.

Sebastian flipped the safety back on the gun and stowed it in his waistband, addressing the attacker who was wide-eyed in complete shock. He snarled each word "You even _think_ about filing a report, going to the police, or coming after us, know this. I know a hundred different ways to make you _beg_ for the sweet release of death, and I won't hesitate for a second to use them on you."

Spitting on the ground at the bleeding attacker's feet, Sebastian tucked Jim deep under his arm and turned them out of the alleyway. At the end of the block, he stopped and looked Jim over. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you? Did he... do... anything?" His eyes were wide as he spoke, his mind still berating him for letting Jim out of his sight in the first place.

**Ivanattempts:**

At the order to cover his ears, he cringed, and complied without a word. The sound of the gunshot had his eyes widening, had him jumping in terror, head swiveling - but... but he hadn't killed the man, thank goodness. Even if he was an awful man... Richard swallowed, hard, curling into the man's embrace. As the man began to led him away, he sniffled and followed, keeping himself pressed tightly against the other man. He was still shaking, trembling, steps unsteady as they walked. The man swallowed hard as Sebastian started to look him over, trembling, just wanting to hide against him again.

Richard found it hard to even look at him, but he hesitantly raised his dark eyes, shivering, clothes still a mess. "I-I...he..." His fingers came to his lips - but they didn't stay there, traveling down. His sleeve dipped, showing the red ring around his wrist, and his fingers traveled the same path as the man's lips, to a red mark already beginning to bruise. It was going to turn ugly, that much was obvious, but his skin didn't seem to be broken. Still, he cringed the moment his fingers came in contact with it, apparently ashamed of it, hiding it with his hand and sliding his other hand to fix his clothes, whimpering. He fumbled with the button on his jeans, tried to refasten it.

"'m sorry. I didn't mean to be so awful to her."

A hesitation.

"I didn't mean to make you angry. Don't be mad at me, please."

With his clothes semi-fixed, he curled towards Sebastian again. "Don't hate me. I just want to go home. Please." The man kept one hand over his throat, hated the way his body was marked now, disgusted by it. Richard ducked his head under Sebastian's chin, hiding his face against his throat now, eyes tightly closed.

**Taggianto:**

Sebastian watched as Jim's fingers traced a path over his skin, stopping just above... He was kicking himself, over and over and over. Something pulled at his heart as Jim did his best to refasten his jeans... meaning the man... the attacker had...

He had half a mind to go back and finish the fucker off.

No, right now his priority was Jim. He waved a hand at the man's repeated apologies. "She was pathetic, just like you said. Forget about her, I'm more worried about you. I wasn't angry, I was confused. Which, okay I'll admit is a bit like anger for me." He stroked the back of Jim's head reassuringly as Jim tucked his head under his chin.

"Come on, let's get you back to the flat." He squeezed him tight and then turned and continued along the road towards their flat. As they walked, he had his phone out, Waitrose app open, ordering the groceries he'd abandoned on the sidewalk to be delivered.

Along with three dozen gingerbread cookies.


	10. Stirrings

**Ivan:**

The man was holding him, stroking his hair, keeping him close, right there in the middle of the street. Jim would have been furious. Richard didn't care. Jim wasn't the one who had just been shoved against a hard wall in a dark back alley, and molested. He swallowed, staying close to the man and breathing in the smell of him - there was something comforting in it, something about the solidity of the other man that helped him relax, even if just a little. Richard needed to call his therapist. Needed to tell her what had happened, needed to - but he couldn't. Couldn't, because it might compromise their work. Might ruin the job.

Richard was wondering if _any_ job was worth this.

As Sebastian turned him, he reluctantly released his grip, eyes falling to the ground. He kept a tentative hand on the sniper's jacket as a child might, chewing softly at his lower lip.

"...he didn't. J-just...shoved his hand..." He had seen the way the other looked when he'd been fixing his pants, and his cheeks burned with shame and embarrassment at the admission. One hand remained over his throat, hiding the mark there.

When they arrived at the flat, he shifted closer to Sebastian. Jim's men might not harm him, but he didn't care, didn't want anything to do with Jim right now. Didn't want to think about the fact that Sebastian thought _he_ was Jim. Maybe he should just tell him. Maybe he should... He couldn't do this right now. Didn't want to think. His mind was too busy, and he had a headache, a terrible one. Just wanted to forget everything, forget anything had happened. As they got into the elevator and were finally alone, he tugged softly at Sebastian’s jacket, not quite raising his eyes to look at him. "Can we watch a movie still?" A mumbled request. Maybe the movie would get his mind off things. Maybe.

The elevator dinged open and he stepped nervously to the door, fiddling clumsily with the key - the key, actually, was just for Richard, there was a touchpad too, he was just always prone to pressing the wrong things and he unlocked the door, immediately shifting towards Sebastian again, seeming not to want to be away from him for long.

**Taggianto:**

"Of course we can still watch a movie," Sebastian said as the lift brought them up to their floor. "Though I dropped the one we bought when I dropped the groceries when I saw... anyway. We'll watch something else. What do you want to watch? We can order takeaway too if you're not in the mood to cook anymore."

Once inside the flat, Jim was like Velcro to his side. Sebastian did his best to shrug out of his jacket, tossing it vaguely at the closet, then helped Jim to get his own jacket off, which was a bit of a hassle, seeing as the man was reluctant to move his hand from his neck.

"Here, let me get a closer look, okay?" Carefully, Sebastian moved Jim's hand and leaned in to examine the mark. Shit, it looked like the man's teeth had broken the skin just slightly. "We need to get antiseptic on this," he murmured and caught the embarrassed look in Jim's eyes. "Hey, hey now. Don't go blaming yourself, okay? This wasn't your fault, don't you even think for a second this was your fault." He pulled Jim in close. "If anything this was my fault. Some bodyguard I'm turning out to be..." He sighed.

**Ivan:**

"Anything. I don't care. Just put anything on..." Muttered quietly; he felt bad for making Sebastian drop the movie, and drop the groceries, and for having to be rescued, and... just bad in general.

Did he feel like cooking? Not really, but Sebastian had said he was tired of takeaway..."You said you didn't want any more of that..." Still concerned for the other, even in the shape he was in. Didn't want to inconvenience him anymore. For a moment, though, when Sebastian tried to get his jacket off, he resisted, flinching, hand pressing harder to his throat; finally, he relaxed - forced himself to - and let the man pull it off of him, hand shifting briefly from his neck. As the other leaned in to inspect it, he flushed, looking miserable, didn't want him to see, didn't want anyone to see.

When Sebastian touched his hand, he allowed it to be moved, tipped his head to show the mark to the sniper as he had asked. He swallowed thickly, lips twitching in displeasure. And then the other was...trying to comfort him. His shoulders shook, and he was shaking his head in denial, eyes averting once more. Then he was being pulled close again and he curled into, once more burying his face against Sebastian's throat, arms slipping up and around his neck, keeping him close. "I ran off." Accusing to himself, supposed to be comforting to the other. He didn't want Sebastian to feel bad for him messing up. "You told me not to, and I did it anyway. I'm sorry." He pressed closer until he was nearly flush against the sniper, needing that, the closeness that the other offered. He just wanted this, wanted the man's arms around him. "Please don't think it was your fault. You're wonderful." Richard hesitated, then pressed a sweet kiss just beneath Sebastian's jaw. "You make me feel safe. I never feel safe." It was quieter, a shared secret - and it was the truth. Even Jim never made him feel this way. If anything, Jim made him _more_ anxious sometimes.

The fact that his neck needed attention was not something he wanted to think about. Hesitantly, he touched it, shuddering. He just wanted it hidden, didn't want to have to look at it, didn't want Sebastian to have to look at it. Just wanted it gone.

**Taggianto:**

"Of course it was my fau-" Sebastian bristled at the kiss to his jaw. Warning lights were flashing in his brain, but his heart was hammering in his chest. Half of him was screaming to break away, run in the other direction, get the hell out of Dodge because it looked like this might be headed somewhere he was Not Ready For.

The other half of him wanted to lean in and kiss the man properly.

Coughing slightly, Sebastian pulled back from Jim's embrace, not completely, not entirely, but enough to give himself a bit of room to breathe and to think. After all, Jim was still shaking, still hurt, still needed attention. "Let's, uh..." he cleared his throat. "Let's get your neck cleaned up, then we can figure out what to do for dinner."

Steering Jim into the bathroom, he gave his upper arm a reassuring squeeze and told him to sit somewhere while he looked for the first aid kit. Turning his back to Jim, he started rummaging through the various cupboards, squatting down and finally finding one far in the back of the bottom cabinet. He knelt down, reaching into the cupboard until he was able to get his fingers on the kit. Sitting back on his heels he scanned through the contents. It was limited, but it would do for what he needed. Probably would be a good idea to properly stock up on medical supplies, though.

**Ivan:**

Sebastian was tensing, pulling away; for a moment, Richard honestly wondered what he had done to displease the man. It hit him a second later - the little, chaste kiss. His cheeks colored, and a quick flash of secondary hurt crossed his features. He hadn't mean to upset him. But of course it would - Sebastian wouldn't want him. Jim had warned him of as much, but he hadn't listened. No, he'd seen for himself the type that - there was something bitter in the thought, and he stopped it immediately. He was quiet, if a bit reluctant, when Sebastian began to lead him to the bathroom.

Once they were in there, he did as he was told and shifted to sit on the counter with the sink, back firmly turned to the mirror, eyes averted. As Sebastian rummaged around, the normally chatty man remained quiet, twisting his fingers absently in the fabric of his shirt. He was wondering if he should just go to bed, just curl up in there, and-

But no. Jim would be in there, waiting for him, waiting to sneer and laugh at him, waiting to tell him everything he didn't need to hear right now. He didn't even dare to go get his pills just yet. When Sebastian resurfaced, he tipped his head to one side, baring the mark to him, beginning to turn a very distinct purplish color now; he didn't even have to see it to know it was bad, if the way his neck ached was any indication. It was like some animal documentary he'd seen, where one animals bites the other as a show of dominance, and to mark their territor-

He thought he was going to be sick.

**Taggianto:**

Sebastian set about tending to the wound with equal silence. He was calming down, body settling into that tired ache that always came as the adrenaline left his bloodstream. Though the area was very bruised, the actual wound was rather small, and Sebastian first cleaned it with some gauze soaked in hydrogen peroxide, then one with water to rinse, the cloth coming away stained slightly orange with blood. Smearing the entire area with antibiotic gel, he finally applied a small band-aid as gently as he could, trying not to press on the blossoming bruise.

He stepped back slightly, looking Jim over. He looked positively green, and he was still shaking. Sebastian grabbed a cup from the side of the sink, filling it with water and handed it to him. "Here, try to calm down. Take a drink. I know you've just been through a lot." Sebastian averted his eyes, and by his tone it sounded like he was speaking from experience, but he didn't elaborate.

"So," he said, trying to lighten the mood a bit. "What's for dinner then? We can order takeaway that's terrible for us but tastes amazing, or I can cook you whatever you want. I ordered groceries for delivery as we were walking home, and they should be here within the hour."

Sebastian didn't even notice he'd started referring to the flat as home.

**Ivan:**

The hydrogen peroxide left a strange tingling feeling, but it didn't burn, and he relaxed a little under Sebastian's ministrations, thankful for the gentleness in the man's touches. Gentle - when had someone last been gentle towards him? Probably the girl who turned him down, the light ruffle of her fingers through his hair, a gesture he had taken as sweet at the time. But that particular train of thought was never pleasant, and he dismissed it with a wince as the bandage was applied. At the offered water, he hesitated for a few moments before taking it, sipping at it. The water tasted bad in his mouth - it tasted like the man's kisses. He turned and spit it into the sink with a grimace, repeated that twice, and finally got a swallow down.

Sebastian's words had his expression softening in quiet worry for the other, fingers shifting as if he might reach out for the man. He thought better of it and brought the cup to his lips once more, draining the remainder of the small cup and twirling it uncertainly between his fingers. He...he needed to cheer up. This, this wasn't like him, to just sit around and mope. No, he always tried to be cheery, because one cheerful person was sometimes enough to cheer up everyone else. He rewarded Sebastian with a slightly shaken smile, small and sweet, eyes turning fully on him at last, the sniper finally obtaining his full attention once more, as the waitress had at the shop, as the cashier had at the grocery store. Eyes only for him. A man could do a lot of damage with that look, if they even knew they were doing it. Richard, as it happened, didn't.

"Um...I'm not that hungry, so anything is fine...I probably won't eat much either way..." His voice was still soft, but it was the most he'd really spoken. "I...think I should shower..." There was an edge of disgust there, a slight hint of the turn his thoughts had taken. He was dirty now, unclean. "I'll be careful of my neck..." One hand came up to lightly touch the band aid, but he forced his hand back down.

**Taggianto:**

Sebastian watched as Jim rinsed his mouth, glad when he was finally able to swallow some. He stood awkwardly with his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Watching the uncertain smile spread across Jim's lips, he was reminded of the full, warm smile Jim had given him only a few hours earlier. The smile now was a broken shell of that one, and it made Sebastian's heart wrench. It was an odd feeling. Sebastian had long ago given up on feeling much of anything. In his line of work, it did not do to form emotional attachments to anyone or anything. A sniper - an assassin - had to be prepared to pull the trigger no matter what lay between the crosshairs.

Then those big, chestnut brown eyes were locked on his and the feeling intensified. He was secretly glad when Jim mentioned a shower, it meant Sebastian had an excuse to get out from under that gaze and just think. There was a lot going on here, far too much to try and process.

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea," he managed to say. "You'll feel better afterwards, at least a bit. Trust me." He fought the crazy compulsion to wrap Jim in a hug before leaving. Instead, he gave him a tight-lipped smile and made his way out of the bathroom. "I'll be in my room if you need anything," he said as he left.

He stopped by the front door to check to see if the groceries had been dropped off. There were several bags outside the door to the flat, so he brought them in and made short work of putting everything away, even going to the lengths of finding a Tupperware container for the gingerbread cookies so they wouldn't go stale.

Task complete, he entered his own bedroom and shut the door behind himself. He stood with his hands in his pockets for several minutes, mind racing. Jim, the powerful criminal who had hired him as a personal bodyguard and assassin and was afraid of his own dreams. Jim, the man who'd stood down two armed thugs and flinched at Sebastian's stern words about running off. Jim, the man who teased him with security cameras and giggled over gingerbread cookies. Jim - dark, sweet, harsh, gentle, anxious, cold, calculating, shaken, broken, and wrong and perfect and fuck.

Sebastian flopped onto his bed and brought an arm across his eyes. He was so confused. He was confused and tired and just a little bit scared. It was a scary feeling, knowing what the man could do to him, what he had done to him. Everything about the situation was messed up, but then his mind was filled with the image of Jim, scared and pinned against a brick wall in an alley and he felt that surge of anger again. Anger at the attacker for daring to hurt Jim, anger that he dared to make Jim feel so broken and helpless, but most of all anger at himself for his own stupid outburst that had caused Jim to take off in the first place.

But it was anger laced with the subtle realization that he would rather die than let Jim be hurt again.

Utterly drained, Sebastian closed his eyes, intending to just rest for a few minutes before starting on dinner. Within 30 seconds, he was fast asleep.

**Ivanattempts:**

At the smile, Richard fought the same crazy compulsion to reach out and hug the man; 'one last time' was the reasoning his brain provided, but that was stupid. If the man could hold him once, he could do it again. Surely that much wouldn't change in the short span of time it took him to shower. 

The shower, it turned out, took much longer than he anticipated. Richard very pointedly kept his back to the mirror, didn't want to look at it, didn't want to think about it; he undressed, fingers clumsy on the fabric, on the button and zipper of his jeans. One piece at a time, deep breaths. He was alone, perfectly alone, and alone meant he was safe. Alone meant he was okay. Just as long as he focused on that, on being alone, he wouldn't have to think about...about _him_. The attacker, or Jim, either of them, didn't want to think about either of them. Just wanted to get in the shower, and feel better, as Sebastian had said he would. He fiddled with the controls, fumbled over them, pressed the wrong things several times, and finally got the water too hot, but bearable. The washing didn't take long, though he did catch himself pausing, wincing as he ran across spots he hadn't realized hurt. The bruises on his neck and wrist, it turned out, weren't the only ones to be seen. One at his hip, just below the dip of his jeans that nearly made him cry - one at his clavicles where he'd been pressed at too hard. One on his shoulders from being shoved against the wall. One on his knee where he'd hit a rib when lashing out at the man. All of them were blossoming prettily beneath the heated water, and he hated it. 

When he was finished washing, he...stood there. Simply stood there, exhausted, the water beating down on him. The steady rhythm of it, at least, drowned out his thoughts, kept him complacent. So much so that he hardly noticed when the water ran cold, colder; it was only when he began to shake from cold instead of fear that he realized what had happened, and his head lifted slowly, looking at the water as if he was freshly waking from a dream, uncertain of how he wound up here. He shuddered, turned the water off and stepped out of the shower, snatching up a towel and running it over himself, teeth chattering. The fabric did little to warm him, so he finally gave up and wrapped it about his waist securely, curling his arms over his chest like a woman might and stepping out of the bathroom. He peered uncertainly around for a few moments, and moved to go to his room, and... paused, hand on the doorknob, swallowing thickly. 

He could do this. He really could. Jim was... Jim was just Jim. He wouldn't...he wouldn't hurt him. Wouldn't have let the man _really_ hurt him. Right? He had just been angry, very angry, and Richard shouldn't have shouted like that at him in the first place. Right. He opened the door, already cringing, ready for the onslaught. 

What he didn't expect to find was an empty room. Somehow, that was more frightening. He looked around, biting his lower lip, and stepped hesitantly into the place as if it were a mine field, and any step might be his last. Finally, he made it to the wardrobe, and pulled it open; when no furious Jim appeared to scold him from inside, he snatched out his pajamas and dragged them on, old things, faded, and well-loved, but comfortable. Loose and soft to the touch. He cast another fearful glance around the room and backed out, closed the door behind him. Where was Jim? He didn't know. Didn't want to know. He realized belatedly that his phone was in the jeans he had carried into his room and abandoned there - it could stay there. The room was too quiet, too empty, and it was starting to scare him. Jim never missed a chance to mock him.

...Sebastian. Sebastian had said he could find him in his room. He turned his steps there now, needed to see him, needed to make sure he was still okay, and that something horrible hadn't happened while he was in the shower. The house was so quiet...

Outside of Sebastian's room he paused, uncertain, poised there ready to knock. Should he? What if the sniper was sleeping? He didn't want to bother him, but...but the fear was sinking in. He didn't knock - instead, he hesitantly opened the door silently, and peered inside. Ah...there he was. He seemed safe and sound. Richard should leave it at that, should go and sit on the couch and wait for him to wake up. No doubt he was exhausted too; he had no misconceptions that putting up with both he and Jim was anything but. It was why no one ever stuck around. His expression softened some, and he padded in quietly, closing the door behind him, made his way towards the bed, and hesitated again. Should he...wake him? He didn't know. Didn't want to startle the man. But...there was some space he wasn't using. Maybe he could just...

Richard slid onto the bed as quietly and stealthily as possible - which for him, wasn't very much of either, but he did his best, and wound up curling up on the bed in what space Sebastian wasn't using. He was cold still, skin chilled from the shower, but even just this close to the other - teetering on the edge, actually, likely to fall off if he actually fell asleep - he could feel his heat, and it made him feel a bit better. He closed his eyes and tried to relax some.

**taggianto:**

Sebastian felt the dip in the mattress, pulling him reluctantly from the embrace of half-sleep. He groaned softly, felt groggy and slightly numb, the full body tingle that came from passing out truly exhausted and failing to move in the slightest from where you fell. How long had he slept? Squeezing his eyes tight he stretched his arms above his head, attempting to regain feeling in the one that had been draped across his eyes. He brought them back down and hit something slightly damp.

Huh?

He opened one bleary eye, blinking rapidly until his vision cleared (he always had a slight feeling of panic in those moments, Sebastian's life was defined by his eyesight) and the figure of Jim, curled up in the tiny unoccupied space in his bed, came into view.

He blinked again. "Um. Hi," he said, voice rough with sleep. He couldn't be mad at him, he was still fuzzy with sleep and he had, after all, told Jim he would be in his room if he needed anything. "Feel better? Need something?" He turned on his side and gave Jim a bit more room - one wrong move right now and the man was going to take a tumble off the edge of the bed.

**Ivanattempts:**

The other shifting made him open one eye a little tiredly, but he remained where he was, until the arm fell against him; that had him clutching at the covers in an attempt to stay balanced and not fall off. At the sound of Sebastian's voice, though, he turned his head some to look at the other man, a slightly apologetic look on his face - but the sniper was shifting over to give him more room, so surely he wasn't too upset to find him there. "Hullo."

Richard shifted to settle more comfortably on the bed, turning some to face the other, but staying carefully distant, not wanting to crowd him. After all, he'd already invaded his personal space, gone in his room, and crawled into his bed...Cuddling probably wasn't the best thing to ask for right this instant. "S-sorry...I just...The house was really quiet, and I came looking for you, but you were asleep, so I just..." Didn't want to be alone. But he didn't say that, pressing his lips together to keep the words back, simply sliding his eyes a little shyly to the side. He...liked Sebastian's voice when it was like this, rough from sleep. It was nice, in a way. Not that he didn't like his voice all the time, it was just...something about it.

"I didn't mean to intrude...or wake you...you looked so peaceful, and..." He trailed off again, uncertainly, looking up at Sebastian, seeming to be looking for forgiveness. Richard seemed relaxed in the bed, comfortable, one arm up to be used as a pillow.

**taggianto:**

"S'fine," Sebastian said with a half-yawn, stretching again, arching his back with a slight crack, then rubbing at one of his shoulders with the opposite hand. "Didn't mean to fall asleep anyway, I was gonna start on dinner." He mirrored Jim's position, one arm tucked under his head for support.

It was oddly... comfortable, this. Laying on his bed, watching Jim. Watching Jim who was also lying on his bed, looking at him with worried eyes. The man's hair was damp and messy, falling in odd spikes here and there. It was rather cute, actually, the thought flitting across Sebastian's mind without him fully acknowledging he'd thought it.

"Glad you woke me," he said after a moment. "Otherwise I probably would have slept through 'til morning." He couldn't seem to figure out what to do with his other hand. He settled for just resting it across his own stomach, subconsciously rubbing at the soft, expensive material of the new tshirt. "Feeling a bit better? Hungry at all?"

**Ivanattempts:**

It was...nice, just laying like this. He felt so comfortable and...even a little happy. Richard took the time to really take in the sight of the man now, the way he watched him. The line of his shoulders, the fingers toying at the soft shirt. Richard found himself wanting to touch it as well. His fingers twitched a bit, but he didn't reach out, instead curling his fingers against his own stomach, smiling some. "You probably needed the rest, honestly." Mild, sweet. Really, he just liked looking at Sebastian - he felt like he could just stare at him forever. He looked so...strong. But not...Jim's type of strong. Not the kind of strong that could tear people down in seconds with nothing but a sharp tongue, but...an inner sort of strength that Richard was growing terribly fond of. Jim was...only as strong as people believed he was, Richard thought. And if people stopped believing it...Well, he didn't want to think about that. He needed Jim.

"I...could eat." Hesitant, thoughtful, as if he weren't too sure of it...But he could. He nodded a little more firmly, smiling some. "Yeah...I think I could eat something." The shower really had made him feel better, and the unease he had experienced in their quiet flat had dissipated some now that Sebastian was awake, looking at him, talking to him. Richard yawned softly, stretching slowly, lean figure arching with a soft sound torn between a sigh and a moan. He stretched as far as he could - his arm stretched out over Sebastian's, wrist brushing against his arm - muscles coiling, and releasing, his eyes closed for a moment. He ached a little, but it felt good, and he relaxed, lashes slowly fluttering up once more to settle on the man. Ahh, if only they could spend all day like this!

**taggianto:**

The soft sound that escaped Jim as he stretched was doing strange things to Sebastian's stomach, it felt as if it were doing odd little flips. Add to that the fact that a little bit of a thrill raced down Sebastian's spine as Jim's wrist brushed his arm and he didn't immediately pull away from the contact. When he did it was slowly, pushing himself up with a crack of joints. Blame it on still being fuzzy from sleep. Yeah, go with that.

"Then let's eat. Still in the mood for spaghetti?" Sebastian asked as he propped himself up on his elbow. He reached across and laid a hand on Jim's side, just above his waist, stroking just slightly with his thumb. Jim felt a little chilly, but Sebastian's hand fit in place like it belonged there. It took a second or two for him to realize just exactly what he was doing and he quickly pulled his hand away, coughing slightly to hide his embarrassment.

"Um... Marinara sauce with beef, right? I'll go, uh, get the water boiling." Averting his eyes he pushed himself up off the bed and made his way to the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ivanattempts: (Oh my~.)  
> taggianto: (( just give in, sebastian. you're so far gone. )  
> Ivanattempts: (Go ahead and give it up, soldier. You put up a good fight.)


	11. Dinner and a Show

**Ivanattempts:**

What was that look on his face? Richard couldn't place it, didn't know what it meant. He blinked a little when Sebastian's hand dipped to his waist, and his eyes slid from the man's face to his hand, resting there, but...he didn't pull away. Richard relaxed beneath the touch, happy for the warmth of it - compared to his own chilled skin, Sebastian's hand felt like it was on fire. "'Bastian..." Murmured, soft and sweet, like he might say something - and he might have, the words right on the tip of his tongue, a shy, hesitant invitation for him to stay.

Then, the man was pulling away though, and he flushed, nodding quietly as Sebastian asked about the food. He swallowed, biting gently at his lower lip and looking at the sniper with wide, dark eyes, uncertain. When the man left, he hesitated, lingered in the bed for a moment. His hand came up as if to touch where Sebastian had, but he stopped himself - he didn't want to touch it and lose the feeling that was already there, the slight warmth still on his skin. He sighed in something like frustration, rolling to bury his nose in the sniper's blankets for a moment.

After a few moments of sulking, he got up, straightened himself out, and padded to the bedroom door, towards the kitchen, moving to lean against the bar, watching him quietly.

**taggianto:**

Sebastian moved around the kitchen like he'd lived in the flat his whole life, glad to have something to focus on. A pot to boil the noodles, another to sauté the beef, cutting board for the onions and herbs. He filled the largest pot with water from the tap, twisting the flame on beneath with a few clicks and a rush of lit gas.

Why had he done that? He hadn't thought about it, his hand had just moved on its own. It had felt like the right thing to do, a compulsion, one he hadn't been able to stifle in time. He drew the 9" chef's knife from the storage block and ran it through the sharpener a few times. The knife in his hand helped to calm him and he set about chopping the onion... first in half, then vertical slices, careful not to dig into the root too far or his eyes would be watering from the juices. Two horizontal cuts into the flesh, the hold it all together with one hand, finishing the chop and ending up with perfectly evenly sized pieces. Repeat with the second half, into a sauté pan with a little extra virgin olive oil and fresh cracked pepper. Stir to combine, then a toss of the pan to coat evenly, back on low heat to cook the onions before adding the beef.

He didn't notice when Jim came in, the water was boiling now and he was adding the spaghetti noodles to the pot, snapping them in half in large bundles before tossing them into the water with a generous helping of sea salt.

He hadn't minded, though. It had felt nice. And it had felt nice to wake up to someone in his bed too... no. Not gonna go down that path right now. Sebastian set his jaw and concentrated on cooking, searching the drawers now for a can opener.

**Ivanattempts:**

The man seemed entirely focused on the task at hand, eyes sliding over him as he worked. He seemed to know exactly what to do, always making just the right motion, or cut, putting the noodles in at just the right time. Already, it was starting to smell good in the kitchen, homey even. It was only when Sebastian went looking for the can opener that he slid into the kitchen, moving over to a drawer and opening it with a soft clink. He pulled the can opener out and offered it to Sebastian with a soft smile. "Here..."

Richard looked around - the man was doing so much better than he would have. At this point, the kitchen would have been a total mess if he'd been the one cooking. Still..."Is there anything I can do to help...?" He shifted, leaning against the bar, back pressed lightly to it now, looking up at him and tipping his head ever so slightly. It was all so...domestic. Jim never had been one for domesticity, but Richard on the other hand...Well, if it was a good situation, then he was rather fond of it. He tried not to think of his own home life. Never wanted to think about that. This was different. This wasn't like that. Richard absently tucked his hands in his pockets, thumbs hooking in the waistband of his pajamas thoughtlessly; it drug them down a little, showing the slightest sliver of one bare hip, suggesting that nothing was worn beneath the pajamas. Well...he hadn't exactly thought to grab anything...Oh well. "It smells good already..."

**taggianto:**

Sebastian jumped slightly as Jim handed him the can opener - he hadn't heard the other man come in, which was saying something. Sebastian Moran was not an easy person to sneak up on, and those who managed it usually ended up with a black eye for their troubles. "Thanks..." he muttered, glad he'd been able to stop his natural reflex.

"Help? Uh..." Sebastian glanced around the kitchen. "Yeah, sure. Keep stirring the beef so it browns evenly while I chop up the herbs." He handed Jim a wooden spoon, catching a glimpse the man's waist as he did so. An indistinct sound left his throat and he cleared it to cover it up. "Um, so yeah. The meat. Just make sure you keep moving it around..." Fuck, why did that sound so wrong? He shook his head slightly to clear it and concentrated on chopping up the fresh parsley and chives. "Let me know when all the pink in the beef is gone, we'll drain off some of the fat and add in the sauce ingredients."

_Ivanattempts: (Pffft, Sebastian. XD)_

_taggianto: (( ladies and gentlemen, Actual Straight Male Sebastian Moran. ))_

_Ivanattempts: (sdklfjaldkfg)_

_Ivanattempts: (Actual Not-a-tease-at-all-nope Richard Brook.)_

**Ivanattempts:**

Richard blinked a little at the sound that left Sebastian. Was he feeling alright? There was something worried on his face, but he took the spoon, moving over to the pan and beginning to stir it around as Sebastian had instructed. "Are you feeling alright? Is your throat okay? You keep clearing it..." There was something innocent in the question, eyes turning to him, thoughtful. He didn't want the man to be getting sick or anything. When he moved, it was slow, working the spoon through the meat. His eyes slid to the job at hand; this was simple enough he could do this. He turned it from time to time to make sure it was all getting the heat.

A soft humming started, the man absently allowing a little tune to escape him, his body swaying ever so slightly with it, hips shifting as he moved. He stepped on the hem of his pants as he shifted once, causing that sliver of skin to grow a bit more noticeable, not that he seemed to realize it; he seemed pleased with the heat coming off the stove, leaning just slightly closer to it, smiling some, eyes closing to breathe in the smell of the cooking ingredients. He sighed a little breathily; there were certainly worse ways to spend the remainder of a day. Turn, stir, turn stir; his wrist was poised as an artist's might be, the spoon wielded like a brush across canvas, smooth motions through the meat. Finally, he lifted his eyes with a little sound, and turn his gaze to Sebastian. "I think it's done!"

**taggianto:**

"I'm fine," Sebastian managed, feeling a slight flush come to his cheeks. He attributed it to the heat from the stove and focused on the herbs. There was something satisfying about chopping parsley, great big handfuls of leafy aromatic plants chopped fine and reduced to small piles. Once the herbs were done, he set about opening the tomato paste, twisting the can opener on the can and watching Jim from behind.

It was oddly hypnotic, watching the man sway, the simple tune mixing in with the hiss of the gas, slight pop of the browning meat, and the burble of boiling pasta. He turned his attention to the refrigerator, where several fine bottles of wine were chilling. Sebastian was far from a wino, but he knew his reds from his whites and figured that anything Jim had thought to stock the place with would be suitable. He pulled out a bottle of Zinfandel as Jim announced the meat was done and he stood, closing the door.

He almost dropped the bottle when he looked over a Jim. "For fuck's sake..." he breathed out, barely audible, setting the bottle on the counter and crossing to where Jim stood, pajama bottoms stupidly low now. Sebastian reached down and tugged them back up on his hips, thumb brushing against bare skin as he did so. "If you aren't careful, you're gonna be giving me dinner and a show, here, Jim." But his smirk was easy as he moved beside Jim to check on the beef. It was indeed done and he ran a bit of the fat off the top, leaving just enough for flavor without rendering it greasy. The can of tomato paste went in with the herbs and a bit of cider vinegar, combining into a hearty sauce. "Keep stirring that, okay?" he said as he turned the gas off underneath the pasta pot and lifted it off the stove, crossing to drain it down the sink.

**Ivanattempts:**

The sudden tug at his pajamas made him flush, nearly made him jerk away - until he realized Sebastian was...pulling them up? That smirk, that brush of thumb against bare skin, the playful note in his voice; it sent Richard's pulse racing and he shivered, nearly dropping the spoon he was holding, fumbling shyly with it. He offered a slowly smile of his own, stepping back a bit to let the man work.

"Would you like one?"

The words were out before he could stop them, very soft, almost inaudible over the sounds of cooking. Oh. Oh, goodness, he hadn't meant to say that out loud. He pressed a hand to his lips and immediately moved back to helping cook, setting to stirring the sauce with renewed vigor, falling quiet, his cheeks a fresh shade of red.

Just heat from the oven. Right. Yep. Of course. He hadn't actually said that, no, of course not, not him, not shy little Richard - but Jim was still nowhere to be found. W-well, maybe Sebastian hadn't heard? Maybe? Did he even want that? Oh gosh, he didn't even know. The food smelled delicious, though, and he was looking forward to it. Yes, just focus on the food. Right.

_taggianto: ((asldfjkjan))_

_Ivanattempts: (Richard is like WHAT DID I JUST DO)_

_taggianto: (( oh honey, oh sweetie. just jump him already. ))_

_Ivanattempts: (He apparently subconsciously wants to pretty badly. XD)_

**taggianto:**

Steam rose from the sink as the hot water from the pasta pot sloshed down the drain. Sebastian tapped the colander against the side of the sink a few times, getting the last of the water out of the noodles. Perfectly al dente. "Hmm? You say somethin', Jim?" he asked, glancing back over his shoulder as he set the colander on top of the pot, transferring everything to the back of the stove.

He bent down to retrieve yet another sauté pan, twisting it absently as he stood. "Alright, looks like the sauce is done, now to put everything together. Pop the cork on the wine there, let it breathe while I finish this up." A scoop of noodles, enough for one serving, went into the sauté pan with a drizzle of EVOO and a dash of salt. The sauce was added next, and Sebastian expertly tossed and flipped the pan, combining everything together. With his free hand, he opened one of the cupboards and brought out two white plates. Bringing the pan off the heat, he poured the spaghetti onto the plate and started on a second batch. "I think there's parmesan in the fridge if you want it," he called over his shoulder to Jim. "Though I dunno where the grater is."

**Ivanattempts:**

"No, no, nothing!" The moment the words left his mouth, he regretted them. What if he had just told him? What if he had a little more nerve? Agh, why was he such a little coward? He sighed some, biting his lower lip softly and shifting to do as the man instructed. "R-right..." He grabbed the corkscrew from a drawer and made quick work of the top of the bottle - more from Jim's experiences than his own, but that didn't matter. He knew how to do it, that was all that mattered. He left the wine to breathe, biting his lower lip softly and looking the man over. At the mention of parmesan, he hesitated, looking towards the fridge. "Mn, I'm not worried about it if you aren't..."

He moved over to the bar, sliding onto a bar stool and dropping his cheek onto his hand, watching Sebastian as he moved. "You're a lot better at cooking than I am. I would have made a mess of this, and you turn it into a five star meal..." Praising, slightly amazed at how it had turned out. "I can't wait to try it." He smiled, shifting a little on his bar stool. Still, the words were on the tip of his tongue...he swallowed them back, again.

**Taggianto:**

“Fair enough,” Sebastian said, shrugging as Jim denied saying anything. Plating the second batch of spaghetti, he added a few fresh basil leaves and topped them with cracked black pepper. Two wine glasses were located in a cupboard beside the fridge and Sebastian poured a glass for himself and for Jim. He slid a plate in front of Jim and one in front of the empty spot next to him at the breakfast bar. Well. Dinner bar, for tonight. “Bon appétit,” he said with a grin before walking around the corner to take the stool next to Jim.

Cooking had always been a passion of Sebastian’s, and he was particularly sensitive to compliments regarding the things he created. Even Jim’s preliminary remarks regarding the smell and presentation of the meal had him swelling with pride. The first few bites, Sebastian always ran through how to improve for the next time – a little heavy on the tomato, use a bit more basil in the future, less garlic… probably would have gone better with whole wheat pasta or possibly a fettuccini – but after the initial critique he settled in to enjoy it. It had turned out rather well, actually, and the Zinfandel paired beautifully with the flavors.

They hadn’t really planned the seating arrangement very well however, seeing as Jim was left handed and Sebastian was right, and the breakfast bar was narrow as it was. As a consequence of this, Sebastian kept accidentally bumping his elbow into Jim’s arm. “Sorry,” he muttered after the third time this happened. “Do you want to switch?” he asked, motioning between the two spots.

**Ivanattempts:**

While Sebastian ran through ways to potentially improve the meal, Richard wondered over how delicious it already was; it was mouth watering, the kind of good that almost makes your jaw lock up from the sheer force of it. He let out a little, pleased coo, smiling some and beginning to eat with vigor. "Wow, this is delicious, 'bastian! You should cook all the time." He grinned a little; of course, he knew what Sebastian had been hired for, but the man obviously had skills in other areas as well, and he, for one, was not complaining in the least. The wine, as far as he could tell, was a good choice to go with the meal, but he wasn't too picky, either. 

Other than the compliment, he ate in relative silence; the first brush of their elbows went relatively unnoticed. The second had him glancing. The third nearly made him blush. He almost would have thought the other was doing it on purpose if it weren't for the muttered apology; he chuckled a little, shaking his head. "I don't mind." At the offer to switch places, he hesitated, thinking for a moment. Well, if they swapped places, they wouldn't be touching anymore...

"No, I'm alright. I like this seat." Perhaps a bit stubborn, or childish, but he also liked the way their elbows brushed against one another. It sent little sparks through his blood. Funny, how such a simple brush of skin could do that to him. Besides, he'd eaten too quickly, and it was catching up with him - he was slowing down now, really savoring the food, because he knew he wouldn't be eating much more of it. His therapist said he didn't eat enough, but...Well, he never could keep track of meals; it was too chaotic between changes, and Jim wasn't always very forthcoming with information. Even something as simple as what he'd eaten while he was awake. One time, Richard had teasingly asked him why he was so hesitant to tell him, asking if he'd been eating children or something. Jim had only smiled, and Richard had never asked again. 

To be honest, he was still looking forward to the movie, eager to finish dinner to curl up on the couch and get absorbed in some story or other, to forget the events of the day. His eyes slid from his plate, up, around the kitchen - and then they landed on the gingerbread men in the container, left on the counter. He nearly dropped his fork. "I...did you..." A slow smile slid along his face, and he looked down at his plate to try and hide the look. "...you're really...kind, aren't you, 'bastian? I think you hide it a lot, but you're really a good person at the end of things."

**taggianto:**

Sebastian suspected Jim had ulterior motives for refusing the offer to switch places, but with each sip of wine and bite of fine food, he was finding it harder and harder to care. The next time their elbows bumped, he let the touch linger.

"Of course I got you more cookies," he murmured, all but ignoring the rest of Jim's comment, just blushing slightly. It was ridiculous, he was far from _kind._ And he definitely wasn't a good person. Good people didn't commit murder for money. Good people didn't torture on command. Good people didn't have the past he did.

He finished his meal, arm definitely resting against Jim's now, and looked over at him. Sebastian was full from the meal and slightly warmed from the wine. He smiled easily. "So. Still up for a movie then? What do you have in mind?"

**Ivanattempts:**

The touches were lingering now, and he let them, couldn't bring himself to pull away. Richard toyed with his food, but he was no longer eating - in his defense, though, he really had done his best to clear his plate this time, had eaten more than any other meal the sniper had had with him. He licked his lips, finished off his glass of wine and smiled. He knew Sebastian had mostly ignored what he had said, but that was okay - Richard believed it, even if Sebastian didn't. "Thank you."

Shifting - but not enough to dislodge the other man's arm, no, he wanted that to stay there - he looked to Sebastian with an easy smile of his own. The glass of wine had...relaxed him. He wasn't drunk, not even tipsy, but he was a bit of a lightweight. Jim was better at drinking than he was, but not by much. It warmed his stomach, kept his smile relaxed. "Mmn, yeah, I do still want to watch one..." He tipped his head thoughtfully, shrugging one shoulder. "Um...I don't really care. Anything is fine by me..." He mused over it, chewing softly at his lower lip in thought, before brightening. "Oh! Have you seen Anonymous? I picked it up a while ago...I like it." It was one of the few movies he and Jim could watch together without the man interrupting and complaining. Needless to say, they'd watched it a _lot_. But, that wasn't a bad thing. He liked it.

**taggianto:**

"Can't say I've ever heard of it, sure." Sebastian was standing now, clearing away the plates to soak in the sink. He scraped what Jim hadn't eaten along with what was left in the pots and pans into a casserole dish and shoved it into the fridge. Grabbing the wine bottle, he pushed the cork back in slightly, just enough so that when they moved to the living room it wouldn't spill out. "Shall we?" he asked, picking up their empty wine glasses in one hand and nodding his head toward the sofa.

It was a large, overstuffed, pillowly cloud of soft leather trimmed in dark wood. Bright green throw pillows of some sort of fake fur were placed artistically in the corners, bringing a modern feel to the otherwise rustic couch. Sebastian set the bottle of wine and glasses on the coffee table in front, pouring out another glass for himself and Jim as he waited for the man to set up the DVD.

**Ivanattempts:**

"Alright!" He slid from his bar stool, padding towards the selection of DVDs - they had a rather large number of them, actually - and took a few moments to look over the titles before he found the one he was looking for. After that, it took him much more time than it should have to figure out the DVD player; it was fancy, way more buttons than necessary, honestly, and he almost turned it off a couple of times. Once he finally got the machine to accept the movie, he hummed and grabbed up the remotes - all of them, he'd figure out which one did what when he needed to - and moved over to the couch, pleased to accept his second glass of wine. He didn't normally drink a lot of alcohol, but if Sebastian was offering, surely it was okay...

The couch was wonderfully soft, and he sank onto it, just barely resisting the urge to stretch out over the length of it. But, that would be rude, and he needed to leave space for Sebastian to sit! Richard brought his wine glass to his lips, fiddling with the remotes until he found the one that worked the TV - a bit more button mashing, and they wound up on the right channel, the title screen looping. His head turned to look at Sebastian and he smiled. "Ready?" He was lounging slightly on one of those nice pillows, one leg pulled up and curled beneath the other.

**taggianto:**

Sebastian leaned back into the couch as he sat, one arm flung across the back of the cushions. A playful smirk painted itself across his face as he watched Jim fumble with the DVD player. Not that he would have been any better at figuring the damn thing out. He'd never really had the patience for the things, preferring to just download something onto his laptop if he really wanted to watch it.

Those pajama pants were slipping occasionally with Jim's bustle around the electronics, and Sebastian subconsciously crossed his legs, couldn't help but staring. Then Jim was turning, arms full of remotes, having apparently figured out how to get the DVD in the damn player and Sebastian quickly averted his eyes, becoming very interested all of a sudden in the titles of the books on the shelf to his right.

As Jim sat on the opposite end of the couch, Sebastian brought his arm down from the back, sitting forward to grab his wine glass, elbows resting on his thighs. He looked over at Jim and smiled. "Ready. Go for it."

 


	12. First

**Ivanattempts:**

Richard snuggled down into the couch some with a very serious nod, and pressed play. He was wide-eyed as it began, only vaguely remembering to bring his wine glass to his lips from time to time. It opened with a sweep of the camera, people bustling backstage, costumes being thrown together, people preparing for a show - and then a man, stepping onto stage, narrating - thoughtlessly, he was moving his lips to shape the words as well, smiling some. Oh, he loved this, loved this bit - the older gentleman was turning, gesturing, and a man was running across the stage, and...there! In that instant, the cameras swept in, and the stage disappeared, and the story really began. A delighted sigh left him; it was masterfully done, and he relaxed, settling in for the story to properly begin.

Soon, a scene came with a man tied to a chair, and he was punched for not talking; Richard cringed a little, but watched with wide, interested eyes. For once, he was utterly silent, seemingly enthralled with the story playing out in front of them. He was already halfway through his second glass when the political intrigue began, turmoil with the royals, and even though he knew the story by heart by now, he couldn't help the way he tensed, or gasped, or leaned forward at important parts.

About the time he finished off his second glass, eyes closed and head tipped back, a soft moan came from the TV, and he barely got the drink down without choking it back up. Oh...goodness. He'd forgotten about this. The scene was elegantly done, but the implication was very clear; the man and woman on screen were all over each other, hands, lips, little breathy sighs and needy noises - he was turning her, pressing her to the floor, and Richard flushed, reaching for the remote as if he might fast forward. He didn't; the noble had something to upset the up and coming queen once the passion was finished, and for the moment, he let out a little sigh of relief. Until the verse started. Oh, God. He swallowed, shifting, and suddenly, his legs were pressed together, eyes glued to the screen, lower lip lightly tugged into his mouth - pure poetry from the man's lips, and the woman was wavering in her resolve to throw him out, and then she was kissing his throat, his chest, down, lower, to... _Oh_.

**taggianto:**

The movie itself was nice enough, not exactly Sebastian's taste, but he was almost more interested in watching how Jim reacted to it. The man gave himself over wholly to the story playing out on screen, utterly enthralled and totally captivated. His lips were moving almost subconsciously to the words spoken on screen and Sebastian found himself captivated by _them_ more so than anything in the movie. The living room was dark, the sun had set sometime during dinner, and it was just the soft glow from the action on screen that illuminated Jim's face now.

He shook his head slightly, a little fuzzy from the wine (he hadn't had anything alcoholic in quite a while, he'd been too busy with jobs, too poor to afford bars, and it seemed as if his tolerance had dipped a little) and he forced his attention back to the movie. A man, tied to a chair and being beaten... fuck, that was doing things to him that it really should not have been. He shifted his position on the couch as subtly as he could, crossing one ankle up and across his thigh. He tried to pay attention to the movie but Jim was making frankly obscene little noises and his eyes kept getting drawn back to the man on the couch beside him. His hand twitched, almost as if to reach out and then...

And then, _oh fuck,_ the movie had his full attention. He was unaware his mouth was hanging slightly open as he watched the frankly gorgeous scene on the screen right now, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. He leaned forward slightly, subconsciously, nearly empty wineglass dangling from his fingers as he watched. Stealing a glance across to Jim and the man had his lower lip sucked into his mouth and Sebastian couldn't stop the thought that flashed through his mind of sucking on those lips _himself._ Ohhh, not good. He drained his glass and sat back, clearing his throat a little. "Never really was a fan of Shakespeare but this is uh, makes it a bit more interesting," he said with a slightly nervous little laugh, trying to break the tension.

**Ivanattempts:**

The scene continued, the man's fingers tangling in the woman's hair, the verse breathy on his lips, and Richard was swallowing, flushed, legs pressing more tightly together - porn never really had been his thing, too lewd, absolutely obscene, but this... was erotic on an entirely different level, and he was flushed, the wine certainly not helping with his condition any. One hand still loosely held his emptied wine glass, the curling a little in the fabric of his pajama pants. At some point during the movie, he'd started a slow slide towards Sebastian, body tipped slightly closer to Sebastian now than when the film had started, and he seemed just barely balanced.

The sound of Sebastian's voice was what finally seemed to break the spell, and Richard jumped, flushed deeply, coughed a little as well. "U-um, yes, well, it certainly has an...intriguing take on the story." But his voice was falling breathless from his lips - had he held his breath through the entire scene? God, he hadn't even realized he'd been doing as much. He swallowed, hard, reached to put his wine glass on the table before he dropped it or something - he'd had quite enough, oh yes, more than enough - and managed to do so without much incident.

Much incident, that was, except for his elbow bumping into the remote, and backing them up to the beginning of the scene. He jumped at the sound of moan, eyes slipping to the screen in surprise - but he'd overbalanced himself, and already tipsy, no correction could be made in time. He slid to fall slightly against Sebastian, reaching for the remote a little clumsily, a little embarrassed at having started the scene over again. Oh, gosh, they were making those sounds again...Which remote was it again? He didn't even think to sit up from his spot against Sebastian, though he probably should have - he was too concerned with figuring out how to make the sounds on the TV stop before - yelling, and then, oh God, verse again, and he bit back what might have been a very soft whimper.

**taggianto:**

The sound of Jim's voice, breathy as he answered, was just not fair and Sebastian found himself having an internal argument.

_Just reach out to him, for fuck's sake. He's right there. Your arms are long enough, come on. You want to. You know you do. A warm body, someone to hold, someone to touch and to touch you..._

_No, that's ridiculous, no way, absolutely not, I'm not gay. I'm straight. I'm fucking straight and_ fuck _I just want to kiss him right now._

He swallowed, hard, and tried to keep his tone light in response. "I think I'd have paid more attention in Lit if the class had been more like-" And suddenly he had an embarrassed, fumbling, whimpering, tipsy, warm body against his side and the scene had started again... somehow Jim had bumped the remote (on purpose? possibly.) and the hands on screen were everywhere again and before he could stop himself, Sebastian was wrapping his own arm around Jim's shoulders. "Wanted a second go at this scene eh? Can't say I blame you," Sebastian's voice was breathy and a bit deeper than he realized, his heart hammering in his chest right now.

_What am I doing what am I doing what am I doing stop it stop this don't ever stop this god damn it..._

**Ivanattempts:**

Oh God, why couldn't he find the right remote? They all looked the same in the dark, he didn't have a hope unless he just started pressing buttons on all of them, and who knew what he would mess up if he did that. He was looking helplessly through them, considering simply picking one and trying it when that arm settled around his shoulders, and he blinked. The remotes, in that instant, were completely forgotten, and Richard's eyes slid from them, to the screen, and the whispered verse against skin making him shiver, and then to Sebastian. "I-I..." But there was something in Sebastian's voice, something in the way that he was looking at him that ruined any protest he might have had. "It's one of my favorite parts..." He finally admitted - and it was, though he really hadn't hit the button on purpose.

Richard, for the second time that night, was holding his breath - the movie, it seemed, had been completely forgotten for now, and the man's full attention was on Sebastian, his own heartbeat loud in his ears. Very suddenly, his body was deciding to make him realize exactly what was happening. Suddenly, he was incredibly aware of the weight of Sebastian's arms around his shoulder, the twisted the position of his own body that nestled him perfectly under that arm. The way the sniper was looking at him, an expression he at once couldn't place, and knew all too well. He parted his lips as if to speak again, but couldn't find a single thing to say, head tipped back slightly to look at the man - and very, very slowly, his hand left the remotes, allowed them to tumble to the floor as he shifted, never breaking eye contact with the man; and the now freed hand came up, uncertainly, to rest very lightly on Sebastian's chest - and the thudding beat he could feel there mimicked his own.

_He's going to kiss me._

The thought was sudden, quiet; there was a pause, as if waiting for a protest, but the protest never came. Instead, the thought settled warmly, a little thrill racing through him at the realization. _Yes_ , he pleaded silently. _Yes, please._ He hadn't even realized, really, how much he _wanted_ Sebastian to kiss him. He shouldn't. Jim wouldn't be happy. Jim had warned him. But...but far be it from him to stop Sebastian if he wanted to.

**taggianto:**

"It's a... yeah, it's a good part..." Sebastian said, his eyes locked on Jim's now. Those eyes, fuck those eyes... The glow and flicker of the screen danced across them and they were dark, impossibly dark, though whether that was due to the low light or... And then there was a hand on his chest, just light, uncertain, and everything was uncertain now, hanging precariously in the balance. Those soft, sensual words were still coming from the screen but Sebastian wasn't hearing words, he was hearing heartbeats... his own... and he swore he could hear Jim's, just as rapid, could feel it through the hand on his chest, the body under his arm...

_Just do it just do it just do it just..._

Sebastian's body moved seemingly automatically, slowly, carefully... he brought on hand up to Jim's arm, then to his shoulder, then lightly along his jaw, tipping the man's already offered face up some more, and he leaned in, slowly, hesitating, his eyes scanning over every inch of Jim's face before settling on his lips... those lips, parted. Waiting.

He didn't make them wait long.

_Ohh Jesus fucking Christ what am I doing..._ Jim's lips were soft, impossibly soft, but surrounded by the roughness of a day's worth of stubble and Sebastian was fascinated by the contrast. He didn't linger though, just a soft press of lips and then he was pulling back slightly, his eyes searching Jim's, hoping he hadn't been wrong...

**Ivanattempts:**

For a long moment, Richard wondered if Sebastian was going to pull away; he waited with bated breath, and nervousness was beginning to stir in his gut, a flip of his stomach - maybe he was wrong, maybe he should pull away before this went too far, got too awkward, maybe he should...and then Sebastian was moving. Richard moved with him, that held breath leaving him in a relieved sigh as those fingers slipped up his arm, to his shoulder; it was slow, so slow, so hesitant, the hand on his jaw...His head tipped with no resistance, skin warming under Sebastian's touch. God, what was he even doing? He should stop this, should...but Sebastian's eyes were studying him, sliding to his lips, and then he was leaning forward, and...

If ever Richard had kissed someone before - and he had, he knew he had, really - they were utterly forgotten in this moment. He accepted the kiss, lashes slipping briefly closed at the press of lips; and oh God, if the tingling sensation was anything to go by, he'd swear literal sparks had appeared at the contact. And then...Sebastian was pulling back, and he opened his eyes, head tipped, expression slightly puzzled; there was a silent _why are you stopping?_ in the look. But...it wasn't fair to make the other take all of the risk. He hesitated, paused, then leaned in just as Sebastian had, making the contact again, soft and sweet, chaste, with just a hint more pressure now, the fingers resting on Sebastian's chest curling slightly in the fabric of his shirt, soft beneath his hands.

**taggianto:**

Did he really just do that? Did he actually, really, just do that? Oh god, why did he just do that? Jim wasn't doing anything, the seconds seeming to take ages, fuck, what if he'd got it wrong, what if he'd just screwed everything up, he was going to end up dead in an abandoned warehouse somewhere he knew it he was done for he -

The lips were on his again, Jim making the move this time and Sebastian's mind went blank with a soft buzz, like an old television set powering down. All that mattered were the lips on his, the fingers threading into his shirt and the warmth pressed against his side. Sebastian shifted so that he was more fully turned to Jim, and he brought his hand to the back of Jim's neck, just slight pressure, just something to hold onto, to ground him in this moment and he couldn't help the soft rumble of a moan that came muffled from his throat at the contact.

It had been so, so long. And it had never been like this.

**Ivanattempts:**

Oh God, he couldn't believe he was doing this. Initiating kisses had never worked out well for Richard. They were usually clumsy or awkward, and usually very, very short lived. But this was...different. Lingering and warm, and Richard shifted with Sebastian, pleased for the change of position. When the man seemed settled, he moved, careful not to break the kiss, to lay more firmly against the other. It was slow, very slow, each movement seeming to take forever, cautious, as if afraid Sebastian would suddenly realize who he was kissing and push him away. A lamb, trying not to startle a tiger.

The hand on Sebastian's chest was joined by his other, and both were sliding up now, savoring the feeling of the fabric beneath his fingers, and the feeling of the body beneath the fabric, up, up, until he met skin, and arms were sliding almost lazily around Sebastian's neck, lips shifting almost shyly. His fingers found the short hairs at the nape of the man's neck, slipped through them, Richard's lashes fluttering against his cheeks softly before resting there. The rumble of a moan against his lips brought a softer one from him, lips parting the slightest bit to let the sound escape.

Yes, he'd kissed people before - but never like this. He was relaxed, not nervous - a rarity for him any time, honestly - even when he shouldn't be. It was...pretty close to perfect. The movie, he was dimly aware, was still playing on in the background, but he'd lost interest in it completely. Why would anyone care about a movie, when Sebastian was the other option?

**taggianto:**

They were settling together now, fitting perfectly like two pieces of a puzzle. As Jim's hands came up around Sebastian's neck, Sebastian's hands slid ever so slowly down Jim's sides, coming to rest just above his waist. Jim's fingers in Sebastian's hair were sending chills throughout his entire body and he was amazed how powerful just that little touch was.

The kiss was perfect, Jim was pressing ever so slightly into it now. Sebastian wanted more, but not just yet. He needed time to adjust, to shift his mind, too fast and the delicate balance would falter, the spell would be broken. He was at a crossroads right now. Soon he wouldn't be able to blame it on the drink or the movie or anything but his own feelings and wants and desires.

Jim's lips parted to let out a moan, and that was just not fair. The sound had Sebastian shifting his hips slightly, ears going red in embarrassment over the effect the sound was having on him. But the lips were parted and he couldn't help himself, opening the kiss slightly, just teasing with his tongue at the edge of his own lips, brushing ever so slightly against Jim's.

**Ivanattempts:**

Richard thought that he had never, in all his life, been more comfortable than he was in this moment.

The smaller man was nearly trembling now, flushed, the kiss warming him all the way down, and he thought he very well might simply melt against the other. He felt himself a puddle already, pliable beneath Sebastian's hands, his spine arching to press closer as they slid down to his waist. It should be right and proper illegal for a simple kiss to feel this good. Such a simple action, and it was completely undoing him, unraveling him, and another moan threatened. It should be laughable how worked up he was getting over this, but if the shift of Sebastian's hips was any indication, he at least wasn't on this train wreck alone.

Somehow, he had not expected Sebastian's tongue - he nearly pulled away. Instead, he ventured to sweep his own tongue out, sneaking forward and swiping along Sebastian's lower lip before retreating, a quick, teasing motion. He wasn't sure why he had done it, other than he had had the sudden urge to, and he was far beyond ignoring his urges at this point; those fingers were curling slightly in Sebastian's hair, urging him just a little closer; he felt breathless again, would need to surface for air soon, but God, he didn't want to. He'd linger in this kiss as long as possible, never wanted it to end. A touch melodramatic, perhaps, but he _was_ an actor after all.

**taggianto:**

Jim was pressing into him now and Sebastian just needed more contact. He could feel the shivers coursing through Jim's body, mirroring his own, and the apprehension was leaving him. It was too good to be worried about it. If this was wrong, he never wanted to be right ever again.

He finally broke the kiss, but didn't pull away, just rested his forehead against Jim's, breath heavy. A few deep breaths, his chest sucking in the air it had been deprived, then he was bringing his eyes up to look in Jim's. What he saw there was intense and nearly had him looking away. They were both so far gone.

Finally, he couldn't take it any longer, he was starting to get a cramp in his neck from turning to meet Jim for the kiss. He moved his hands down and under Jim's thighs, repositioning him. "Here, shift a bit," he murmured, slowly pulling the man over and on top of him to straddle his legs.

**Ivanattempts:**

The break in the kiss was reluctant - at least on his part - but he was appreciative of the air, sucking in the oxygen with slow, deep breaths. His lungs ached. He couldn't bring himself to care. Richard relaxed as Sebastian rested their foreheads together, slowly opening his eyes - the look on Sebastian's face, he could only imagine, mirrored his own. Blown away. Taken off guard. How had this happened?

How had this not happened _sooner?_

The feeling of Sebastian's hands sweeping down to his thighs brought a very quiet whimper from him, but he did as Sebastian instructed, his breath hitching slightly as he shifted, parted his legs over Sebastian's hips, arms still looped around his neck. The couch was a little small for this, and his knee nearly slipped, but he steadied himself, turning his gaze on Sebastian again. If the movie was still playing, he didn't register it, didn't care. "'Bastian..." It was a very soft sound, warm, something of an invitation in it. An invitation for what, he had no idea, but he found himself briefly licking his lips, tongue sweeping out to catch the lingering taste of Sebastian there.

**Taggianto:**

Sebastian took a moment to savor the image of Jim straddling his thighs in the glow of the television screen. The man was a mystery, he was baffling, he was most certainly insane, but in this moment, Sebastian didn't care. For some reason, this just felt _right_.

His hands were slowly running up and down Jim's sides now, just getting used to the feel of the man's body - so different from a woman's. Where normally he felt curves, there were angles. Where there should be softness, there was rigid muscle. Not hips that curved, but hips that were straight and just slightly bony. And it was all perfect.

Jim spoke his name, his _pet_ name now, softly, murmuring, almost pleading for something. From this position he could feel the effect this was having on the both of them and Sebastian swallowed a little apprehensively. "Jim..." he said quietly, "Jim I... I don't..." He let out somewhat of a frustrated sigh and pulled Jim back into a kiss, and there was a layer of something else in it. A confusion. Yes this felt good. Why did this feel good. Did it matter why this felt good?

He slid one hand up along the curve of Jim's spine, stopping on the back of his neck and pulling him deeper into the kiss. Maybe if he kissed him enough, kissed him deep enough, kissed him long enough, those worries would just disappear, would just go away, would just leave nothing but this moment and this feeling and this body and _Jim_.

**Ivan:**

Sebastian was looking at him, really looking at him; up and down, eyes sweeping over him, hands following his eyes. It made Richard flush a little, and his body moved (almost involuntarily, not that he minded) to follow the path of the other's hands, arching and curving at the slight pressure to push them just slightly closer together. This was...thrilling. Breathtaking in a way no previous experience had been. Richard had no idea what to make of it. Didn't want to think too hard about it. Thinking too much complicated things.

So did speaking, apparently, because the sound of Jim's name on someone's lips had never _really_ bothered him until now. It hit him hard, and he almost protested, looking just slightly confused himself, before something like understanding crossed his features. No. No, of course he'd call him Jim. He still didn't know...

No, no, that was complicated.

"Shhh." A soft rush of breath, shushing the man - he didn't want to hear the other's name, for fear it might wake him, summon him from whatever dark corner he had gone to rest in. Richard didn't hate Jim. Didn't mind sharing with him. But this...this moment was _his_ , and he wanted it purely for himself. Maybe that was a bit selfish of him, but Jim was selfish a lot. Surely he got to be that way every once in a while too.

The kiss was different this time. Cautious, questioning; as if trying to confirm that the initial conclusion had been correct. Richard allowed himself to be pulled into it, hands coming up to cup the sniper's face, fingertips tracing along his jaw, back to the back of his neck, along the line of his shoulders - timid, exploring. The hand at his spine drew a breathless sound from him, hummed into the kiss as he was pulled deeper into it. Parting his lips, Richard once more ventured to sweep his tongue out, across Sebastian's lower lip. He didn't know if this was okay. He didn't know if Jim would be mad at him for it later. He didn't know if Jim might do something awful to them as a punishment to him. There was really no telling with him sometimes.

Right now, he didn't particularly _care_.

**Taggianto:**

Jim had almost looked hurt when Sebastian had spoke, and he didn't blame him. He was so confused, and it seemed like Jim wanted this so much, that he was certain the notes of hesitation in his voice were what had caused the look. Jim was shushing him then, and he didn't mind because he was getting lost in this kiss.

Each sweep of Jim's hands along his jaw, his neck, his shoulders had him shivering, tiny electric trails shooting up and down his entire body. The touch was light, tentative, sweet and somehow that just made it all the more intense. Then Jim's tongue was on his lips again and _yes_ he needed more of that. Without really thinking, because really if he thought too hard about this the spell would just break, he opened the kiss further, pulling Jim's bottom lip in and sucking lightly, running his tongue along the trapped skin before releasing it and slowly exploring just the inside of Jim's mouth with the tip of his tongue.

**Ivan:**

Those little shivers had him shivering as well, shifting to settle more comfortably in Sebastian's lap; Richard's fingers continued their slow exploration, down from his shoulders to his back, hands sliding along the smooth fabric of the shirt with just enough pressure to feel the body beneath. It was all so...slow. But it was nice in that; a slow burn was building somewhere, melting him from the inside out, and he couldn't bring himself to mind in the slightest. This, he thought for perhaps the first time in his life, was something worth angering Jim over.  
  
The sudden tug at his lip surprised him, brought a curious sound from him, and then, by _God_ , Sebastian was sucking on it, and Richard's fingers curled against his back, breath hitching slightly. It was so hard to think at all when he was doing that...which, really, was probably for the best. When his lip was released, it took him a second or two to realize that anything else was happening - he was trying to gather his wits, trying not to melt into a right and proper little puddle in the man's lap.  
  
When he finally _did_ notice, he hesitated, allowed Sebastian a few moments to explore before, with a little shiver, he was pressing his tongue forward to greet the other's, tentatively brushing them together before his own withdrew slightly, awaiting Sebastian's reaction. Unsure of himself, so unsure - tried to keep the image of the busty brunette from the store from his mind, tried to make no comparison because there _was_ no comparison. While not his type, Sebastian had been interested, could have been with her tonight...no, no. Don't think of that. Richard was uncertain, but willing. Eager, even, fingers still curled in the fabric of the man's shirt, breath quick and uneven.

**Taggianto:**

The hands on his back were divine, fingers curling in the tight fabric of the expensive new shirt, and that had him arching into the sensation. But then for a single moment that stretched out far longer than that Sebastian could bear, Jim didn't react to his tongue. He was about to pull back and apologize, try to choke down the embarrassment, the humiliation, and then...

And then there was the softest press of tongue on tongue and relief flooded through Sebastian like boiling water in its intensity. _Yes._ Sebastian's strong hands were on Jim's hips then, shifting Jim closer automatically as he teased the other man's mouth with his tongue again, searching, waiting, hoping for that touch again.

Somewhere in the back of Sebastian's mind, sparks were flying and pathways were opening and rewiring themselves. If he'd known, if he'd only known it could be like this... with anyone, let alone with a man... what had he been missing? No, no that wasn't quite right. Because no one else could have been like this. This razor-thin edge, this dangerous uncertainty... nothing and no one else could ever have compared.

**Ivanattempts:**

Closer, closer; Sebastian was pulling him, and he was pushing into it, closer - God, at this point he might as well be trying to share the same skin with the man, and he couldn't be more pleased. The clothes were in the way, but he didn't dare try to cross that bridge just yet, simply moaned softly at the hands on his hips, curled his fingers more tightly in Sebastian's shirt, the barest hint of nails scratching at the fabric, as if he might try to claw his way through it. He flushed when he felt Sebastian's tongue again, but didn't hesitate this time, pressing his own forward, lashes fluttering slightly at the slick slide he felt, the subtle roughness. 

If ever Richard had been more aware of his own body, he'd completely forgotten it; he was trembling, nearly panting, and somewhat embarrassed he hadn't remembered to grab underthings now, because those loose pajama pants did nothing to hide his current condition. Then again, there was hardly any point in trying to hide it - he was pressed nearly fully against Sebastian at this point, it would be a wonder if the other couldn't _feel_ it, pressed against his stomach. 

Slowly, he tipped his head, a slight change of angle that gave him better access to the other's mouth, opened the kiss a little more; and then, slowly, he eased his lips down, down, around Sebastian's tongue as the sniper had with his lip, and sucked very softly; he teased the captured muscle with his own tongue, a very gentle press of teeth that existed only for a second, and brought no pain, before he released him and opened the kiss up once more.


	13. Under Pressure

**taggianto:**

Jim didn't make him wait for his tongue this time and that was just perfect. Slowly, Sebastian's world was narrowing down to the feeling of Jim's tongue along his, the hands on his back, the lips on his own. There was the subtle hint of fingernails now, and that just had Sebastian's blood racing with little thrills. It was a tease at what might come, and Sebastian had always liked it rough.

And then suddenly Jim was shifting, changing the angle, no longer content to react, he was initiating. And that capture of his tongue, the feeling of Jim just _sucking_ at it... god, it was positively sinful. He was whimpering at the action, his mind flashing to other uses for that talented mouth.

Sebastian was pulling Jim closer to him subconsciously, just an automatic movement, pressing their bodies together when...

_Oh._

Well that was certainly different.

Sebastian broke the kiss, shifting Jim's hips just subtly away from his own. He rested his forehead against Jim's shoulder, breath heavy and ragged. He couldn't exactly protest too much, he was in a similar state, but something about actually _feeling_ the man's erection against his body... it just made it all too real, too much, too quick. "Sorry..." he muttered, not really sure exactly what he was sorry for right now.

**Ivanattempts:**

The whimper was probably what did him in. That was most likely what he would later blame it on; in the moment he heard it, though, his shyness disappeared, and when Sebastian pulled, he went, eager in the kiss, teeth teasing at lips now, wanting to continue, wanting...well, everything. As much as Sebastian would give him. Such a feeling of _want_ was one that he was entirely unused to. He knew what it was like to want things, but never like this, never with such certainty, such intensity.

When Sebastian broke the kiss, his eyes stayed closed for a moment, lips parted still, as if he hadn't yet registered the loss - and when he did, his eyes opened slowly, dark, uncomprehending. Why...had he stopped? He hadn't done anything different, the kiss hadn't even progressed much further, there was only so much you could do in a kiss after all-

And then his hips were being pushed just slightly away, and he understood, flushed deeply, immediately loosed one of his hands from the man's shirt to slide to his own lap, pushing the bulge there embarrassedly down. "Sorry..." He was apologizing too, breathless - the momentary boldness was gone, lost in the wake of this new obstacle. It dawned on him then why Sebastian was reacting in such a way - had he...he hadn't ever been with a man, had he? Richard was...astounded, and flattered, completely floored that he'd even gotten this far, especially if the woman from before was his usual fare. He kept his eyes down, averted for a moment, chewing softly at his lower lip, before glancing up at him. "...it's okay." He wasn't sure what was okay; okay to take it slow? Okay to stop? Okay that he was uncertain? Well...any of those things. All of those things. It was all okay. Any of it. He'd already gotten more than he thought he would, and he was embarrassed he'd made the man uncomfortable, certainly hadn't meant to. That didn't mean he wasn't still terribly turned on of course, one hand still curled in Sebastian's shirt, but...everyone else before himself. Always. That was what made him...well, _him_ , and not Jim.

**taggianto:**

Sebastian was taking deep breaths now, trying to calm down, clear his head a little. It had taken him by surprise, it really had, and it... it was a bit too much right now. Not that he wanted to stop, no, no he liked the kissing and the touches and Jim's mouth on his tongue but...

"It's just..." Sebastian started, but trailed off. He swallowed and tried again. "I've never... I mean don't get me wrong I liked..." He waved a free hand vaguely in the air between them before bringing it back to rest on Jim's shoulder. He let out a frustrated sound. "I just don't... fuck, I don't even know what I'm saying right now."

**Ivanattempts:**

Richard allowed him to vent, blushed and stayed quiet, seemed to be thinking. What, then, would make this okay? If Sebastian was uncomfortable, if that was too much...He chewed over the problem quietly for a few moments. It took time for him, he didn't instantly have the answer like Jim. Finally, he shifted, moved out of Sebastian's lap, still thoughtful. He wasn't sure this would work, but...it was a compromise, maybe. He grabbed Sebastian's hand, tugged slightly, made it clear he wanted him to come along, and turned, beginning to walk. "...okay. Come on."

Down the hall, and straight to Sebastian's room, he stood in the doorway for a second - was this alright? Oh, hell, he'd just had the man's tongue in his mouth, he doubted Sebastian would mind too terribly much if he entered his room without asking for the second time that day. He moved and slid onto the bed, took a steadying breath, and turned to smile warmly at the other man, when he arrived, that genuine look back, eyes once more only for him. "...I'll lie back, and..." He took another breath - this was something Jim would...would never do. Something he normally wouldn't do, but...but it was Sebastian. Brave Sebastian. Kind Sebastian. Sebastian who had shot a man for hurting him. Sebastian who had bought him cookies, even though he'd snarked about them. "And you can be in control. You won't have to, um...t-touch any part of me you don't want to." Murmured, soft and sweet, something understanding on his face.

**taggianto:**

Jim was quiet, too quiet, oh god he's fucked this up, hadn't he? Yes, he had. Jim was moving away from him now, off his lap, and suddenly it seemed so much colder. He ran his hand over his face, through his hair, unable to look over at Jim who was...

Taking his hand? Tugging him up, gently. Urging him on. Sebastian followed, a puzzled look creasing his brow. What exactly was going on here? Why couldn't Jim just leave him to his embarrassment, let him lock himself away in his room until he forgot all about what had just happened and...

Oh god, his room.

Jim was taking him to his room.

Something snapped in Sebastian's brain and he dug his heels into the floor just at his own doorway. No no no no no... he'd just freaked out at the simple _feeling_ of Jim's erection pressed against him and now Jim was trying to take him to his bed? This was... no this was too much too... Jim was on his bed now, fuck, saying something, it took a few minutes for it to register...

_...you can be in control._ Jim was... trying to help? Relinquishing control so that... Sebastian swallowed again, his throat dry. He closed his eyes and took several steadying breaths. As he crossed the threshold into his room, it felt like something was decided. He stopped by the edge of the bed, still uncertain, and lay a hand on Jim's shoulder, running up and along his jawline. He could do this. _Wanted_ to do this. As long as he could go at his own pace.

With a small sigh, Sebastian nodded. "Okay."

**Ivanattempts:**

For a few moments, Richard thought Sebastian might turn him down. Might turn him away, might tell him to get out of his room. He thought about getting up on his own, apologizing, leaving before the other could throw him out. Didn't want that embarrassment. But...But not. Sebastian was...considering it. He didn't push; instead, he merely sat quietly, waited patiently for the man to make up his mind. Anything was fine. Anything at all.

Of course, as much as he told himself that, he couldn't deny the rush of relief when Sebastian moved forward. When the man touched him, he relaxed a little, closed his eyes momentarily to savor the feeling of fingers along his jaw. Good. This could work. They could make this work. His insides twisted with nervousness, but...but no, this was okay. Just as long as he let Sebastian move at his own pace.

Opening his eyes, he bit his lower lip and looked up at the other, nodding and offering a reassuring smile. "And you can always say stop." A softer assurance - he didn't _want_ Sebastian to stop, but it was better to give him the option. He swallowed a little, hesitated, tensed just briefly - this wasn't easy for him, really, it wasn't. It was one thing on the couch, one thing to be on top of or beside the man, but beneath him? To willingly give up control?

Terrifying, and he hadn't taken more pills.

_You don't need them. Not for this._

No counter argument came - but of course Jim wouldn't argue that. Jim hated his pills.

No, don't think about him right now. Slow breaths. Relax.

"Okay." Breathed out, a little shakily, and he slowly, slowly lowered himself to the bed, legs pressed firmly together to hide the offending part of himself that had sent Sebastian reeling the first time. A tad uncomfortable, that was, but nothing he couldn't handle. He was a little tense, but did his best to relax, and after a moment, raised his arms a little uncertainly, as if asking for a hug from the man at the foot of the bed.

**taggianto:**

With a deep breath, Sebastian crawled onto the bed until he was kneeling beside Jim. He sat back on his heels and looked at the man, fuck, the man who was in his bed, illuminated by the glow of moonlight and streetlamps coming in through his bedroom window. He brought his hand tentatively down, hesitating, before settling on Jim's stomach, feeling the rise and fall of the man's breath, the lines of muscle beneath the loose clothing he wore. He just allowed himself to feel for several moments, his other hand finding Jim's arm, along to his hand, and he brought it up to his own mouth, pressing a soft kiss to the back of Jim's hand.

Okay. This was okay, this was nice. One step at a time.

Still kneeling at Jim's side, Sebastian slowly brought one hand up beside Jim's head, the other still playing along Jim's side. He lowered himself down to press a soft kiss to Jim's cheek, along his jaw, feeling the stubble, and then to his lips again, just soft, trying to find the balance again. They could do this.

**Ivanattempts:**

Slow again; a come down from before, but it couldn't be helped. Richard tried to steady his breath, tried to even it out, and didn't do a very good job of it. Still, he was trying, trying for Sebastian's sake. He could do this. Just...let him do as he pleased, and concentrate on not panicking. The light pressure on his stomach made him tense, and it was a few moments before he relaxed, but...but he did. It was okay. Right. He could do this. Swallowing a little, he waited patiently, watched as the hand moved to grab his own; that...surprised him, and his eyes slid open to glance at the gesture, something in his face softening at it. It was so...sweet. He liked it, and offered a shy smile.

His eyes threatened to close again as he felt Sebastian's lips at his cheek, his jaw, and then to his lips again; he responded, but gently, slowly, a subtle shift of his lips that said it was alright to continue. One hand came up to the arm near his head, fingertips almost lazily sliding along it, soft, ghosting touches, simple and affectionate. One step at a time.

**taggianto:**

The fingers on his arm felt nice, drawing little goosebumps as Jim's fingers raked over the hair there.  He kept the kiss lingering for a few minutes, getting used to the feeling again, hand coming to rest on Jim's stomach, his thumb stroking absently along his chest.

He shifted, turning onto his side and propping himself up with one elbow, snaking a hand behind Jim's neck, closer now as he leaned back into the kiss. This was nice. He was close to Jim, could feel him breathing, could feel the warmth through their clothing without having to deal with anything... southern... for the time being. Kisses, he could do. Kisses were nice. Caresses, touches, shared breathing.

With a few kisses along Jim's jaw again, his breath was getting heavier again, and when he connected with Jim's lips again, the fire was starting to build back into the act, not quite where it was, but getting there, lips parted.

**Ivanattempts:**

Richard shifted just slightly to accommodate the new position, but didn't try to push closer - as he had promised, he allowed Sebastian to control everything, his free hand falling to the covers, and curling slightly in them. The man was closer though, and Richard appreciated it, liked the warmth, had honestly been getting a bit chilly. He'd not turned on the heat in the flat, had he? Well, to be fair, it had been far from the first thing on his mind. He swallowed a little, his own breath growing a bit heavier as Sebastian's lips trailed along his jaw slightly. It almost...tickled, but it also sent sparks off, made him bite back a whimper.

When their lips met again, he was once more gently joining in, and when he felt Sebastian's lips part, he mimicked the action slightly, uncertain. He didn't initiate the contact, merely waited, fingertips straying slowly up Sebastian's arm, to his shoulder; to be honest, he was a little frightened now. Didn't know what to do - didn't want to upset the man again, but didn't know how to avoid doing so. He couldn't just... _stop_ being male. But he could do his very best to not make the man have to deal with it, he supposed, though why it bothered him so terribly.

But, it wasn't his place to judge anyone for anything, considering his own issues.

Still, he found himself relaxing a little; it was easier to not be frightened if he could just keep reminding himself that it was Sebastian here with him, much easier to relax, and let this go where it would. And he'd never thought he would be fully relaxed around anyone...What a special, special man Sebastian was, and he didn't even realize it.

**taggianto:**

After a few minutes of kisses, it was obvious that Jim was spooked, afraid he was going to do something to scare Sebastian off. Honestly, without some sort of push from Jim it just wasn't doing much for him. It was like kissing a mannequin. Sebastian sighed and pulled back slightly, hand running along Jim's stomach again.

"Relax, Jim. I'm not going anywhere. I liked what we were doing out on the couch." He shifted closer to Jim again, his chest flush to Jim's now. He brought his lips back with renewed pressure, fingers threading through the short hairs at the back of Jim's neck. "So let's get back to that, okay?" he murmured against Jim's lips.

**Ivanattempts:**

As Sebastian pulled back, there was a brief look of fear - how had he managed to mess it up now? He'd hardly been doing anything at all, just little movements to prove he hadn't fallen asleep or something, or...Oh. He shivered as Sebastian moved closer, pulling in a little breath as he pressed against him, hesitant; but if Sebastian said..."R-right....sorry." A shy smile and he nodded, moving now, sliding his arms up, around Sebastian's neck as they had been before, fingers sliding through his hair, mimicking Sebastian's. Richard swallowed some, pressing into the new kiss a bit more than before.

God, that was nice. "Alright, 'bastian..." Muttered back against Sebastian's lips, and his heart was picking up the pace again; Richard moved in with another kiss, a little harder this time, a little hungrier, lips parted; one hand moved from Sebastian's neck to his back, curling there - the man had seemed to like that before, so he would try it again. His fingers curled in the fabric of the shirt, nails scraping gently. Much better - really, those slower kisses were sweet, but a little boring... _this_ had his pulse spiking and his breath hitching.

**taggianto:**

"That's more like it," Sebastian said with a small chuckle as Jim brought his arms up and around his neck. He was back in the kiss with renewed force, darting his tongue across Jim's lips, exploring the man's mouth. The hand on his back, those fingernails again had him moaning softly. Yes, yes this was much better.

Breaking away from Jim's lips, Sebastian kissed down his jaw, then kept moving down, reaching the man's neck, pausing at the bandage that hid the damage from earlier in the day. He pressed a soft kiss to the bandage in apology before moving down further to kiss along Jim's pulse.

His hand was wandering now, down Jim's sides, up across his chest, along his arm, back down again, and this time as it came up, he caught on the hem of Jim's shirt, pulling it up slightly. Hesitantly, he brought his hand down to the bare skin and just rested it there, reveling in the feeling of heated skin.

**Ivanattempts:**

"Yes..." An acknowledgement and a plea, barely a breath as the kiss continued - when he felt Sebastian's tongue, he reacted immediately, pushing his own forward to greet it, eager to taste him again. Perfect, absolutely perfect. Sebastian's moan brought a matching one from him, and he curled his fingers a bit more in that shirt, a little in his hair. His legs pressed harder together - this was difficult, more uncomfortable now, but he could deal with it, really he could...

And then Sebastian was kissing down his throat - he'd almost forgotten about the damage there, until the soft kiss to the bandage. He didn't cringe away from it though, just tipped his head back to welcome the man's mouth, to allow him better access to it. Yes, Sebastian was allowed to do that. No one else, certainly not that man in the alley. But yes, Sebastian could. He whimpered, fingers moving up to curl a bit more in his hair, head leaning to one side.

As the hand began to draw his shirt up, he shivered, the cool air making him bite his lip - but it was nice, a warm hand soon there to ease the chill, and his breath hitched, stomach rising and falling rapidly at the touch. Yes - that was something he wanted. The feeling of bare skin against his own, it was...God, if his heart got any louder, he was sure Sebastian would hear it.

**Taggianto:**

This was nice, this was good, this was better, but it wasn't enough. Sebastian pushed the hem of Jim's shirt up, exposing more of that pale, flushed skin beneath and he took a moment to break from the kiss and look down at the lines of muscle on Jim's stomach, the line of dark hair trailing from his belly button and disappearing down beneath the band of his pajama bottoms. Those muscles were flexing and heaving from the man's heavy breaths. "Fuck..." he breathed out as he brought his hand to run along the lines there.

And then he was capturing Jim's mouth again, biting at his lips with a vengeance, taking his turn with sucking on Jim's tongue. Between his tongue in Jim's mouth and Jim's hands on his back, he found himself involuntarily arching his back and rolling his hips against Jim's side.

He could only imagine what it was doing the other man. He tried his best to still the movements, focusing on the sensation of Jim's tongue in his mouth.

**Ivan:**

That hand was venturing farther, pushing his shirt up, and Sebastian was looking at him and he flushed, worried for a moment that he might stop - and then he felt the man's hand, the way it slid along his skin, and he let out a very soft groan, and nearly cursed as well. His fingers clenched in the fabric of his shirt, in his hair some, eyes closing. Then the kisses were back, rough and needier, all teeth and tongue, and breathless sounds from him, and he was drawing him closer, opening the kiss, deepening it, and-

And oh _God_ , what was Sebastian doing?

No, that was a stupid question; Richard knew exactly what he was doing, felt for himself what he was doing, felt /him/, and he was moaning, a helpless, keening note in it now, because...because gosh, that was almost cruel, completely unfair. Richard flushed, pressed his legs harder together, almost painfully so, but couldn't help the slight buck of his hips, the needy press of his lips, suddenly harder into the kiss, because he didn't know what else to do. But this wasn't about him; he hesitated, then shifted some, pushed himself closer to Sebastian's hips so he could get better friction with the motion. He was trembling a little, finding it harder and harder to keep his thoughts in check - he'd never had this trouble before, had never found himself so close to losing the ability to think at all. It was less of a conscious decision now and more of an urge, something he couldn't quite control, or he'd probably be too embarrassed to do half the things he was doing. It was amazing what Sebastian brought out in the timid little actor.

**Taggianto:**

The noises coming from the man beneath him now were short circuiting his brain, sparks flying between his ears and he just... he just needed... wanted... fuck, he couldn't think. Nothing was making sense any more, nothing but the noises he was drawing from Jim, and that Jim was drawing from him because there was no denying the steady stream of breaths and moans he was making now.

They were both getting lost in this, lost in the feeling of each other, he could tell, and there was desperation there, so palpable as to be almost be painful. He could feel it in the nails on his back, the sharp pull of his hair... it was pure frustration and need and want...

He didn't even realize how desperate his movements were getting until Jim was shifting beneath him, shifting closer, and that proximity, that pressure along his still trapped and growing erection was brutal and wonderful and wrong, and wrong, wrong, _wrong!_

With a frustrated groan, Sebastian once again pulled away, scrubbing a hand over his face, through his hair. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." he kept repeating, low and frustrated and angry. Angry at himself, angry with the situation, angry that he just couldn't seem to get past the fact that he was here, on his own bed, with someone he wanted, someone he needed, someone who was driving him absolutely crazy with desire and who was definitely, undoubtedly, indisputably male. He sat up beside Jim, burying his face in his hands, deep breaths, trying to calm down, still apologizing because he _wanted_ this, he really did, and could tell how much Jim did too and yet...

It was all just happening so fast.


	14. Taking Control

**Ivan:**

Too much, too good. He was aching, arching, nearly clinging to the man; he was nearly mindless, out of breath, hands roaming now, along Sebastian's back, teasing at any bare skin he could find - and it was wonderful, beyond wonderful, but if he didn't get some sort of relief, he was going to fall apart, completely fall apart. It had never been like this; he was wound so tightly he thought he might simply snap. Come completely undone with just a few more touches, a few more moans, a few more...  
  
And then Sebastian was withdrawing again, and Richard couldn't help the absolutely pained, frustrated sound that left him as well, a mewl of displeasure, disappointment. He tried to bite it back, removed his hands from Sebastian to rub at his own face. He couldn't think clearly enough for this. Wanted to be supportive and understanding, but didn't know how at this point. No, no, if they both went to bed like this, they'd just both wind up frustrated, and the next morning would be awkward and he'd likely never get an opportunity like this again. He didn't want Sebastian to think he was upset, he just...  
  
This was hard. He knew it had to be hard for Sebastian too, obviously it was, this was difficult - but it was hard to be turned down over and over again too. Hard to face the fact that even if Sebastian wanted him, he might not want him _enough_. Might decide it would be easier to go find that girl and blow off some steam, or-

No.

"Lie down."

There was something firm in his tone, but not harsh. He was flushed, but sitting up, expression calmer than he felt.

"Lie down," he repeated, a little more softly, "and close your eyes, please."

**Taggianto:**

The pained sound that left Jim as he pulled away yet again tore at him. Why? Why was it so difficult? He hated doing this to him, really did, but Sebastian was just so confused, his mind racing faster than he could keep up. He'd never done very well with situations like this, where decisions needed to be made under duress. At least in the army there was always someone higher up to turn to, someone to make the decisions for him, if only...

Two words. 

A command. 

Suddenly something like relief washed over Sebastian. He brought his eyes up from behind his hands and saw the calm face of Jim Moriarty, cheeks flushed, but features set with authority. Jim. Jim could make the decisions for him. Jim could help him through this. Swallowing lightly, Sebastian nodded and did as he was told, laying back on the bed. He wasn't sure where to put his hands, eventually settling for just resting them against his own chest. He took a deep breath and waited. 

**Ivan:**

Richard never had been a very commanding person; that was why he had Jim. And for a moment, he thought Sebastian might rebel - but then he saw the relief on the man's face and relaxed. He'd done alright. He'd done well enough. When Sebastian shifted, laid down, he took a moment for himself, just to admire him. He hesitated, then leaned up and pressed a soft, chaste kiss to his lips.

"Now just relax, and close your eyes, and enjoy yourself."

He was convinced that would help - if Sebastian didn't have to look at him, didn't really have to feel him, maybe it would be okay. Maybe that would help. It wasn't too great for him, but if it helped Sebastian...well, he never had been too good at looking out for himself. He could deal with his own issues with this later. He hesitated, then shifted, trailed his lips down, to Sebastian's jaw, his throat, the line of his shirt. Gentle kisses were pressed against the fabric, all the way down his chest, and Richard's hands slid the cloth up just enough to reveal a bit of Sebastian's stomach; God, he was gorgeous, every inch of him. He flushed at the thought and pressed sweeping kisses across the newly exposed skin, right down to the hem of his jeans.  
  
God, could he do this? He'd never really tried before, but...oh, goodness, he was too riled up to be shy right now. Turning his head, he nuzzled lightly at Sebastian's hip, to where it dipped, pressing kisses towards his thigh, and turned his head to press a kiss to the bulge in Sebastian's pants. Embarrassing, really, but that was okay. He could do this. He could do this. Another kiss, the denim rough against his lips - and then they were parting, and he was mouthing at Sebastian through the fabric, breathing warmly against it, hands lightly resting on his thighs, eyes closed.

**Taggianto:**

Sebastian did his best to relax, deep breaths as Jim studied him for a moment, and Sebastian felt his cheeks flushing under the intense gaze. Then there was a sort kiss to his lips, reassuring, and Sebastian allowed his eyes to flutter closed. Then Jim was kissing down... Down... Oh god. His heart rate spiked at the first kisses along his neck and he focused on breathing. 

And still Jim kept moving down. Along his chest, and then his shirt was being lifted, just a tease, and for an agonizing moment nothing happened... And then those lips were on the exposed skin and it felt like he was on fire. Down further still, right along the waistband of his jeans which had him sucking in a hissed rush of air, letting it out in a shaky moan. Sebastian brought one arm up and across his eyes, hand clenching at the sensation. 

He could do this. Just feel. Just get lost in the sensation because fuck, it felt so good. But his mind was racing again. White noise of confusion seeping in through the cracks and clouding his thoughts. What was he doing? What was he thinking? Soft kisses along his hips now getting closer and closer to...

_Oh, Jesus fucking Christ._ Sebastian's hips arched slightly at the contact and his mind went blissfully white. All that mattered was the contact and the feeling and don't stop, don't ever stop. A low moan escaped his lips and he clenched a handful of comforter with his other hand.   

**Ivan:**

His cheeks were burning, he could feel them, and he was a little...worried. What if Sebastian pulled away? Richard didn't know what else he could do if the man pulled away from him now...but he didn't, he was bucking into the touch, and Richard shivered. That was good. He bit back a whimper, pressed his hands lightly to Sebastian's hips, pushing them down gently. His lips pressed eagerly against him, and...  
  
Oh. He was drooling a little. He hadn't realized it until he noticed the denim was becoming wet against his lips, warm and moist. Richard almost apologized. Instead, he pressed closer, lips working over Sebastian's trapped erection - and then his hands were smoothing along the man's hips, to the button of his jeans, quickly working at it, undoing it.  
  
Richard pulled back just a little, just for a moment, panting, eyes half-lidded; he moved to unzip Sebastian’s pants and paused, glancing up at the man before leaning forward and catching the zipper in his teeth, dragging it slowly down, breathing warmly against the soft fabric underneath. Maybe he wasn't getting much out of this, but, gosh, the noises that Sebastian was making...worth it. So worth it.

**Taggianto:**

How long had it been? Sebastian couldn't even remember. His last steady girlfriend, if you could call her that, had refused to go down on him, and before her it was just a string of one-night stands where a blow job would have just gotten in the way of a quick, frantic fuck. So no, he couldn't remember the last time, but he was certain it had never been like this.

He was still apprehensive, but it was turning into a nervous excitement now. Each movement of Jim's lips against his jeans was just driving him more and more insane because it just wasn't enough, just a tease, and Sebastian was close to pleading now, begging for more. He was painfully hard now, straining against the fabric when fingers were suddenly on the button of his jeans and then there was a pause.

No, don't stop now... what happened? Sebastian brought his arm from across his eyes and glanced down just in time to see Jim grabbing his zipper between his teeth and tugging. "Ohhh, fuck... oh shit..." Sebastian breathed out in a moan, barely coherent. His head hit the pillow with a muffled thump and the arm was back across his eyes. The warm breath soaked through the soft material of his boxer-briefs, warming the skin beneath and leaving it that much colder once it dissipated. 

**Ivan:**

The sound of Sebastian's voice, the way he moaned out the words had Richard moaning as well, fingers curling against the denim of the jeans, drawing them just slightly down. "'bastian..." A low sound, soft and needy, eager to continue. His teeth found the band of Sebastian's boxer briefs, caught on them, tugged the band up and let it snap back a little teasingly.

To ease the sting, he dipped his tongue just beneath the band, a slow slide. Richard's hands came up, fingers hooking in the restraining cloth and tugging it down. He couldn't wait - wanted to hear Sebastian's reactions, wanted him to feel better about this, wanted to make him feel as good as possible, not just keep teasing him.

Nails scraping lightly along his hips, Richard blushed a little as he finally freed the other man's erection, pausing a little uncertainly. N-now what? Well...he would just do...whatever he thought would feel good. Without pausing any longer, Richard dipped his head, slid his tongue from tip to base and back, lips parting slowly over the head, before slowly beginning to sink down, lips tightening slightly, tongue slipping down along him and applying slight pressure. "M-mmh..."

**Taggianto:**

The snap of elastic against sensitive skin was almost too much, but then there was a tongue dipping below, soothing, the rough stubble of Jim's face in stark contrast to the smooth wetness of his mouth. It was so... _weird_ and hot and strange... Just when he thought he wouldn't able to stand it any longer, his pants were sliding down and he was laid bare.

_What am I doing what am I doing what is he doing why isn't he doing anything oh shit this is so wrong I don't even know why I... fuck I can't..._ Sebastian squeezed his eyes shut, his entire face contorted in a mixture of pleasure and confusion, his hands curling and uncurling into fists. The seconds stretched out in agony and the buzz of electric uncertainty was building in his brain again. He was on a bed. Naked from the waist down. About to get sucked off. By a man. A man he had been living with for less than two days. A man who - 

At the first slide of a tongue on his cock it didn't matter anymore. Sebastian's brain shut down and all that was left was sensation. The sensation of Jim's tongue, the cool trail of saliva left on heated skin. And as Jim took him in his mouth, Sebastian was letting out frankly embarrassing little noises, whimpers and moans and sharp intakes of breath. Fuck, the man had a talented mouth. "Jim... Jesus fuck, Jim..." he managed, hips bucking against Jim's grip. He brought both his hands up to his face and rubbed his eyes. "Shit that's good..."

**Ivan:**

This was...strange. Strange, but not unpleasant, and he wasn't sure if he was doing this right, or not, and he was nervous. What if Sebastian didn't like it? What if he was doing it wrong? What if-

Oh /God/, the noises coming from Sebastian.

He groaned a little, pleased he was able to wring the sounds from the other, tightening his lips around him a little more, finally beginning to suck. As Sebastian's hips bucked, he pushed them firmly back down, didn't need to choke - he was nervous enough as it was. Uncertainly, he started to bob his head, up, down, a sudden harder suck, a slightly rough brush of his tongue across the tip of Sebastian's cock. Slowly, his teeth scraped ever so slightly against the sensitive skin, not wanting to harm him, just offer a new sensation.

To be honest, he was making rather lewd noises as well, sucking, slurping, little wet sounds as he moved - he'd be embarrassed if it weren't for the sounds that came from Sebastian, his nails digging  
lightly into his hips.

Now he just wished Sebastian would stop saying Jim's name.


	15. Sweet Relief

**Taggianto:**

That first hint of suction had him whimpering, bucking, but then Jim's hands were more forceful now, pinning him to the bed, nails digging in and fuck if that didn't just snap everything into sharper focus. He honestly couldn't tell why he'd been so worried, so reluctant in the first place because this just made sense. Jim was a man, yes, but a man like he was... and who naturally understood exactly how to make a man feel good.

A scrape of teeth against his cock had him nearly crying out, and his hands shot up to grip the headboard of his bed, looking for something, anything to give him purchase, to ground him because he was close, fuck he was close. And the sounds Jim was making... each moan against his cock sent vibrations thrilling through him and he cautiously opened one eye and glanced down.

Oh Christ, that was beautiful. Jim's head bobbing and weaving between Sebastian's thighs, his hair properly ruffled and debauched, his fingers leaving white halos in the skin of Sebastian's hips. His head hit the pillow again, back arching at the sensation. "I'm... Jim, I'm close... fuck... Jim don't stop that's per... perfect... haah..." He was right on the edge, muscles tensing, breath heavy. God, he never knew it could be this good. He could definitely get on board with this.

**Ivan:**

If a blowjob could be this good, Richard thought he might be content giving them rather frequently. The way Sebastian arched and writhed and moaned, the way he clutched at anything he could get his hands on, the way he whimpered and gasped...Richard had never experienced something so entirely pleasing to the senses as this. The taste was...strange, but he didn't mind if it kept Sebastian making those noises, if it kept him so enthralled.

Then...then the man was panting, tensing, and Richard whimpered, pressing his thighs together a little - his own need was nearly painful at this point, but...

_Oh well._

Richard gave an encouraging moan, sucking a bit harder, moving a little faster, sliding his tongue slowly along the underside of his cock, drawing it out, eager to help the man finish. He was...absolutely breathtaking, coming completely undone, and Richard couldn't help watching from half-lidded eyes, vision bobbing with the movement of his head. He should focus, but he wanted to see. Despite Sebastian repeating Jim's name again and again, that wasn't what struck him - it was the other bit. 'Perfect', Sebastian had said. Oh, that had him melting, redoubling his efforts, so very eager to please. So eager to show Sebastian he was better, better than any whore he could find on the street, or in a club, or in a grocery store. That he was worth the effort to _try_. Eager to show Sebastian he thought he was... well, in a word, rather perfect.

**Taggianto:**

It didn't take much longer. Jim was sucking with abandon now, hitting every single nerve, drawing the pleasure out of his body and the moans out of his mouth. He teetered on the edge for what seemed like an eternity, so close, so close... And then finally, "Ah, fuck... Jim!" was the only warning he managed before stars erupted in his eyes and his body went offline.

There was a ringing in his ears as his senses booted back up, colors flashing across his vision, his whole body still shaking from the orgasm that had nearly torn him in two. His breathing was ragged as he released the headboard he'd been gripping within an inch of its life, arms falling numbly at his sides.

"Thaa..." He swallowed and tried again. "That was... fucking hell..." He took a few more steadying breaths. "Jesus Christ, I haven't had an orgasm that intense since..." Well, if he was being honest, since two nights ago when Jim had texted him through it. But before that? "Fuck, I don't know if it's ever been that intense," he admitted finally.

**Ivan:**

As Sebastian finished, it took all he had not to start coughing, spluttering. He managed to avoid it though, waiting it out and pulling back some, uncertain of what to do for a few moments before finally simply swallowing, panting some, flushed, a small bit of come dripping down his lips, down his chin. For a few moments he was quiet, simply watching the other with wide eyes. Sebastian was...gosh, he was beautiful.

The words brought a smile to his lips, and he absently brought his sleeve up to wipe at his mouth a little shyly, and he shifted, leaning up to press a light kiss to his cheek. "I'm happy you enjoyed it." Richard had certainly enjoyed watching him, listening to him. He swallowed again, trying to get rid of the thick feeling in his throat.

"That was...wow..." A little amazed, himself. He hadn't...he hadn't known it could be like that either. Certainly hadn't suspected it could be so fun on the giving end; somehow, he suspected that very heavily relied on the partner. He was glad Sebastian had been his...Some part of him wanted to thank Sebastian for letting him do that, but...instead, he just shifted, sitting up lightly, keeping his legs together. After all, just because one of them had finished...Still, he wasn't bitter about it; rather, he was smiling, seeming pleased.

**Taggianto:**

"Yeah, wow is right." He managed to say with a small chuckle. Sebastian watched as Jim wiped his mouth - wiped _him_ from his mouth - and there was something so intimate about that. He didn't think he'd ever had anyone swallow for him. "You didn't have to do that, you know..." he murmured, a tad bit embarrassed.

He suddenly noticed the very stiff way Jim was kneeling and a pang of guilt tore at him. He should... he should do something. Shouldn't he? That's be the right thing to do, the fair thing, after an orgasm like that, he felt he owed Jim. And... and he wanted to, he suddenly realized. He wasn't exactly ready to go down on the guy, but he wanted to help, somehow. If he used his hands, it wouldn't be that different from masturbation, now would it? Just at a slightly... different... angle.

Reaching one arm out to Jim he beckoned him closer. "C'mere," he whispered, heart beating a mile a minute at what he was about to suggest. He glanced pointedly down at Jim's crossed legs. "Tell me how I can help with that."

**Ivan:**

The embarrassment made him blink; he didn't have to...oh. _Oh._ He hadn't had to...swallow it. But...but to spit it out, he'd have had to leave the bed, and he really hadn't wanted to miss even a moment of it, even Sebastian coming down from it. Besides, it wasn't so bad...not necessarily something he'd be craving as a midnight snack or anything, but he wasn't opposed to downing it when it happened. He touched his lips and shrugged lightly, just chuckling some. "I...didn't mind."

Richard was...uncertain of what to do next. He kept his legs together, folding his hands lightly in his lap for extra measure, painfully aware of how still incredibly aroused he was, but...but he didn't dare ask. He hesitated, considered excusing himself, taking another shower, a purposefully cold one this time, and he swallowed, preparing to speak, when...

_C'mere._

Blinking some, he looked as if he hadn't quite heard him right, as if he'd imagined the simple summons. But that arm was beckoning him closer, and so he hesitantly moved forward, sliding until they were touching again. Did he want a hug, or-

_Oh._

Richard flushed, uncertain. Did he...did he really mean that? His expression was hesitant, and he swallowed a little, keeping an arm draped over his lap; he didn't want to ruin this just because Sebastian felt like he owed him something, or..."Y...you don't have to..."

It was a poor cover up, though; his voice was still warm, breath still quick and uneven - he couldn't very well hide the signs. He wanted it, _needed_ it, whatever _it_ was. Some sort of relief. Any kind. But if Sebastian was serious...Richard moved slightly, shifted to settle carefully between Sebastian's legs, keeping his hands in his lap once he settled, not quite in Sebastian's lap. He was shy, nervous - it was one thing to see Sebastian, to make Sebastian feel good, but to ask for anything for himself, especially _after_ the other wasn't riled up anymore...What if he pulled away? What if he stopped, realized what he was doing? What if he was...disgusted? Richard was a little shaken already, but... _God_ , he needed this.  
  
"J...just..." He leaned back against Sebastian's chest - this should make it pretty natural, right? He could maybe even just pretend...God, he didn't know. Just knew he couldn't turn it down. Hesitantly, he lifted his hands from his lap, not yet shifting his legs apart, though a slight bulge was already evident. He immediately turned his head slightly, watching Sebastian cautiously, ready to hide himself and apologize again. He almost felt... _ashamed_. He knew he shouldn't be, knew Sebastian didn't mean to make him feel that way, but he couldn't help it. It had been a very...rocky night, up and down. He wasn't entirely convinced Sebastian would go through with the offer, but he would just...do his best to be understanding if he couldn't. In the meantime, Richard would be praying he _could_.

**Taggianto:**

Sebastian pulled himself into a sitting position against the headboard as Jim shifted closer, sliding his pants and trousers back up. "I know I don't have to," he murmured as Jim settled himself against his chest (and that just felt so good for some reason), "I want to." He brought his arms around Jim's chest, just hugging him close for a few moments, listening to and feeling the man breathe against him. 

Jim was turning to look at him then, eyes full of uncertainty and something else... hope, maybe? Sebastian's lips found Jim's neck, kissing along it, exploring every inch. Finally, he connected with Jim's lips in a comforting kiss, reassuring himself as much as he was the man held against his chest.  It was an odd angle, kissing from behind, but Sebastian actually quite liked it. His hands began wandering then, along the muscle of Jim's chest, down across his stomach, then back up... just touch, just feeling, just enjoying the soft touch of cotton that hid solid muscle beneath.

With a deep breath, Sebastian brought his hands down to Jim's thighs, gently encouraging them to part. He pulled Jim back so he was properly seated in his lap, spreading his legs over and tangling with his own. _You can do this. Look how much he wants it... you can make him feel just as good as he made you feel... Well, you can try at least..._ A kiss pressed to Jim's cheek, then Sebastian was sliding his hand down, down his chest, down his stomach, hesitating slightly before finally palming Jim's erection through his pajama bottoms.

This was... weird. All at once so familiar and so absolutely foreign. There was an odd disconnect in his brain... he could feel a cock in his hand, something he'd felt countless times, but there was no correlating sensation of a hand on his cock. Sebastian just took a few minutes, rubbing slow and light to try and get used to this feeling. _You can do this..._

**Ivan:**

Resting against Sebastian's chest, Richard was still incredibly uneasy. He didn't want to push the man, didn't want...the arms around him helped to relax him a little, and he shifted to settle a little more comfortably against him, seeming content in Sebastian's arms. His heart, he knew, was beating too fast - he could hear it pounding in his ears. He...wanted to? Well, Richard didn't know about that, but as long as he kept professing as much, he wouldn't stop him, he supposed...  
  
After a few moments he turned his head, looking at the man, and then Sebastian was kissing his throat - it sent little shivers through him, made his breath catch the slightest bit. _Yes_. He liked that, a lot. Then those lips were coming back up, meeting his - strange angle indeed, but not unpleasant. It was kind of...nice. Sebastian's hands were on the move, and he was incredibly aware of them, the heat of them through his shirt, the slight pressure of them. Down his chest, down is stomach...and back up, wringing a very slight whimper from him, an involuntary sound. No, he wouldn't rush him. Sebastian needed to do this at his own pace if he was able to do it at all.  
  
Hands on his thighs, trying to part them - for a moment he resisted, biting his lip, suddenly afraid. C-couldn't they just cuddle? He would be okay with that at this point. He could ignore it, maybe, and just be content to be held by the man...but Sebastian was trying. He swallowed and hesitantly allowed his legs to be parted, flushing and refusing to look at the rather embarrassing bulge in his pajama pants. Sebastian was tugging at him, shifting, and he didn't resist now, moving along until he was properly seated in the man's lap, swallowing and seeming a bit uncertain of where to put his hands. Finally, he wound up shifting them slightly out of the way, fingers curling against his pajamas. His nerves only slightly calmed at the kiss to his cheek, and he closed his eyes as Sebastian's hand slid down... down... down, to-

_Oh God._

Even the slight friction after so much denial was absolute bliss, and his breath caught in his chest, a little moan tumbling from his lips - was it okay to moan? Would that be weird to Sebastian? Well, a touch late now...It took a lot not to buck up against that hand, took a lot to force himself to remain still, fingers clenching against his thighs some. It was...so strange, to have someone other than himself doing this. To actually have someone else's hands on him, it was _amazing_. How long had it been for them? Well, for Jim, there was no telling. But for Richard? God, he couldn't remember. A long time. A very long time. An awkward night with another boy as awkward as him, fumbling in the back of a car if he remembered right. Years. A little shiver raced through him, and he bit his lower lip softly; this was...better. Better by far. Maybe it was the anticipation, the long wait, the buildup of taking care of Sebastian, or...or maybe it was just Sebastian himself.

**Taggianto:**

Jim was already moaning, that was a good sign, right? Sebastian increased his pressure, still just moving along Jim through his pajama bottoms. He kissed along Jim's neck as he did so, up, up, taking Jim's earlobe into his mouth and sucking lightly. Sebastian loved doing that on anyone, always had, though he rarely got the opportunity. A rough and tumble in the bathroom of a dive bar did not lend itself to slow gestures like that.

The muscles were tensing in Jim's thighs and Sebastian could tell he was doing his best to keep from pushing up against Sebastian's hand. _You can do this. Now or never._ Sebastian reached down and tugged Jim's pajama bottoms down slightly, just enough so that his cock came free of its restriction. A deep breath again, and he glanced down. Yup. That was a cock. _You can do this..._

He slid his hand down again hesitating, deep breath, you can do this, and finally ran his fingers lightly along Jim's length. He brought his free hand up across Jim's chest to his shoulder, hugging him close, breathing in the scent of him, burying his face in the crook of Jim's neck and closing his eyes. Again, he brought his hand down to Jim's cock, a little more sure this time, running the length with more pressure before flicking across the head. That's always how he liked to do it on himself, he imagined it'd be similar for Jim. Right? Wouldn't it?  "Tell me what you need," he murmured, voice low and velvet in Jim's ear.

**Ivan:**

The increased pressure had him panting, trembling a little with the effort to keep his hips still. Oh God, this was torture, absolute torture of the sweetest kind. His fingers were curled into tight fists in the fabric of his pajamas now, head tipped lightly to one side to give Sebastian more room to kiss up along his throat. And then Sebastian was sucking on his earlobe, and that had Richard's back arching, a little, pleased whimper escaping him.

As Sebastian moved his hand away, Richard shivered, opened his eyes uncertainly - was he going to stop now? Then his pajamas were being pushed out of the way. O-oh. Apparently not.

_Thank God._

Richard relaxed a little, something like relief hitting him now that the pajamas were out of the way; but the first brush of Sebastian's fingers had him tensing again, breath hitching. And then Sebastian was... hugging him, tightly, from behind, burying his nose against his neck. Richard didn't even think about the motion - he tipped his head to nuzzle gently into Sebastian's hair, pressing a soft, sweet kiss to the man's head. One of his hands came up to the hand at his shoulder, sliding his fingers from elbow to wrist, before finally simply laying his hand over Sebastian's.

Then...then Sebastian's hand was back on him, a little more sure, and that little brush against his tip sent him reeling, head tipping back slightly, another helpless moan being drawn out. And then, Sebastian spoke.

_Oh God._

Richard had heard Sebastian's voice in many different tones by now; sharp, commanding, husky from sleep, nervous, annoyed, amused, angry, gentle - but this, _this_ was an entirely new sound, and it set him shaking, made him throb slightly against Sebastian's fingertips, which in turn made him blush. Well, he might just be able to keep talking like that, honestly, and-

Swallowing a little, Richard whimpered and tried to find his voice. "J-ju...hah...j-just keep d-doing th...ha...that." Panted, a little broken, needy. "P-please, 'bastian..."

**Taggianto:**

Jim's hand on his own was reassuring, it was something he needed, just that simple touch. It grounded him, allowed him to focus on the task at hand. It allowed him to move past the barrier of "I'm jacking off another man" to "I'm jacking off _Jim_." And that was an important distinction.

It was... it was amazing, actually. Each movement of his hand brought corresponding gasps and moans from Jim's mouth and fuck if that wasn't just fascinating. Jim was so expressive, so needy, so utterly caught up in the moment that Sebastian couldn't help but want to make him feel as good as possible.

And his voice... god, his voice. When he spoke, so hot and so breathless. Shit. If Sebastian was a few years younger, he'd have been hard again just from the pure desire he heard in Jim's broken words.

"Just keep doing _what_ , Jim? Tell me." The words were out before he even thought about them, before they even registered. They were low, almost growled against Jim's neck, and Sebastian smirked. Well, that was rather fun. He sucked along Jim's neck as he moved on his cock, faster movements now, focusing on the sensitive head that was leaking already.

He let his hand leave Jim's cock for a moment, trailing up Jim's stomach, pulling at the hem of his too-loose shirt before letting it fall, continuing up, up across Jim's ribs, up across a taught nipple, up to Sebastian's own mouth. He licked a wet stripe along his own hand before bringing it back down to Jim's cock, movements more fluid now from the added lubrication. He then licked a long line up Jim's neck in time with a slow pull on his cock.

Sebastian was getting lost in this, so focused on finding ways to keep Jim making those absolutely sinful noises.

**Ivan:**

Sebastian was...getting into it. Relaxing, even seeming to enjoy himself, maybe, if Richard's addled brain wasn't too far gone to notice such things. Richard was relieved - he'd been terrified going into this that the other man would get started, and be unable to finish, and leave him worse off than before. That certainly didn't seem to be the case now. The noises that were escaping Richard at this point were beyond lewd, and rather loud, but he could hardly help himself; it really never had felt quite this _good_.  
  
The sound of Sebastian's voice, and what he said, caught Richard completely by surprise - he tensed, gasping, the hand still wrapped in his pajamas snatching lightly. God, just hearing the man speak shoved him closer to the edge, and he wasn't sure if he could answer - but he was certainly going to try.

"P-please..." He took a steadying breath, tried to think of a way to phrase what was happening. His voice was soft and warm, almost timid. "P-please, 'bastian, ju...hhh...j-just keep m-moving...hahh...your hand l-like th...tha...tha...oh _God_." Try as he might, he couldn't come up with a single coherent thing to say, and he moaned helplessly as Sebastian sucked on his neck. Would there be a mark?

He almost hoped so.

Richard was shuddering, trembling when Sebastian started to draw his hand away - too far gone to worry if he was going to stop for good, just mindlessly wanting him to continue; but the hand was moving up, up, across his nipple, and oh, that made him shiver, made him whimper. And then his hand was back, and...wet? And he anything but minded, found himself squirming under the touch, clinging at anything he could get his hands on.  
  
Sebastian's tongue at his throat, combined with that slow pull at his cock had him arching, tensing, babbling, a desperate note in his voice. "'bastian, 'bastian! Please, please, oh God, 'bastian, I can't...!" Trying not to squirm and not doing so well, hips pressing eagerly up.

**Taggianto:**

It was frankly embarrassing, the amount of noise Jim was making at this point, but Sebastian was savoring each and every one. He'd never had a lover who was this expressive, at least, not one who sounded so genuine. It was intoxicating.

Sebastian continued the rapid movements on Jim's cock, squeezing and rubbing, matching the movements of Jim's hips now. The man was practically fucking his hand with his squirming at this point, but Sebastian didn't mind. He let his other hand drift from Jim's shoulder down his stomach to the hem of his shirt, sliding up underneath, scratching lightly at the skin there as he worked his way back up, up and then he was rubbing, pinching at Jim's nipple. He'd noticed how the man had whimpered when he'd grazed it before and he was eager to replicate the sounds.

And there was that broken, needy voice again. God, it sounded so fucking hot, Jim reduced to pants and half-completed words. He had to be close by now. "Yes," Sebastian murmured against Jim's neck, planting bruising kisses below the man's jawline. "Yes, that's it." He bit at Jim's earlobe again, when suddenly it hit him, exactly what Jim would need, what he would want.

“Come for me,” he growled.

**Ivan:**

Fire. If it had started as an ember, it was an inferno no, and he felt like he was burning up from the inside out, that little glow that had melted him at the beginning now starting to consume him entirely, and in a way that was beyond pleasure and crossing the line into outright bliss. The babbling from before continued, unintelligible words and broken pants of the man's name, expression twisted in something between agony and euphoria.

Each sensation felt amplified, doubled, tripled, until every little shift captured his entire attention - he often felt helpless, but rarely enjoyed it as much as he did now, the way he practically writhed upon Sebastian's lap, unable to contain himself, pleading, nearly begging. Completely undone. When Sebastian's fingers found his nipple, he nearly sobbed. So close, so close, right on edge, but he was waiting, waiting for something.

He wished he knew what, so he could tell Sebastian to get on with it already, before he right and proper lost his bloody mind.

Sebastian's voice hit him, those kisses at his throat, and it was all too much, too good. A moment later, Richard at once realized what it was he had needed, and otherwise lost all ability to realize anything else.

_Come for me._

It was easily one of the most attractive things Richard had ever heard, and the edge rushed up on him, and he tripped right off of it. He saw stars, and jerked, gasped, moaning sharply - Sebastian's name came out breathless, relieved, amazed.

Finally, he slumped back against Sebastian, dazed, doe-eyed, head turning with a soft, sweet coo, and he was nuzzling against Sebastian, a hand coming up to touch his cheek. A little, genuinely happy smile lit his features.

"'bastian..."

**Taggianto:**

Yep, that had definitely done the trick. At that simple, three word command, Sebastian watched, breathless, as Jim unraveled before his eyes, laid completely bare as he shouted out his name. _His_ name. He'd done that, he'd made him feel that way, he'd brought him up to and over that edge. It was beautiful.

Luckily, with the angle they were at, Jim's come had mostly ended up on the man's own stomach rather than on the bedspread, just a few drops running down Sebastian's hand. It was a bit weird, but nothing he hadn't felt before. It just had never been... someone else's. Anyway. Not dwelling on that. Sebastian leaned over slightly to grab a tissue from the bedside table, cleaning Jim off as the man nuzzled against his neck. He tossed the tissue at the garbage (perfect shot) before pulling Jim's pajama bottoms back up and settled his arms around Jim's waist.

Jim was a soft, pliable weight against his chest and he felt perfectly content to let the man stay there, for as long as he needed, for as long as he wanted, forever, if he could. Jim was muttering Sebastian's name, his pet name, he realized. "Mmm, yeah babe?" he purred back. Babe? Whatever, it sounded right. He felt whole, and that would have scared him just a little bit if he had been capable of rational thought.

As it stood, though, he was exhausted. Absolutely, positively, completely and utterly spent, both physically and emotionally. He tipped his head to capture Jim's mouth in light, lazy kisses, not wanting this moment to end.

**Ivanattempts:**

Sebastian was...cleaning him up? He might have been embarrassed at that development, had he not been so tired himself. He squirmed a bit to help the man ease his pajamas back up, smiling and shifting to curl a bit more comfortably in Sebastian's lap, rather than just remaining sprawled across him. He slid an arm around Sebastian's neck, seeming pleased with the arms around him, and hummed appreciatively.

_Babe._ The word struck him and he blinked a little; he knew that both he and Jim had given Sebastian pet names, but somehow, he'd never expected to earn one for himself. It...it made him happy, and he smiled, pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek. He was...a little nervous. "I...that was..." He hesitated, flushed a little - he was tired, didn't really want to move. Comfortable with Sebastian holding him. And considering what had just happened, he really shouldn't be nervous at all, but..."Do you think I could...sleep in here with you?" Hesitant, soft. "Just for tonight?"

Or every night. That would work for him too. Or anything, really.

Richard tipped his head to accept the kisses, smiling slightly into them, running his fingers affectionately through Sebastian's hair; he wanted to just stay like this forever, stay right here, and just keep kissing Sebastian, because as long as he was doing that, he wasn't afraid. He wasn't scared of anything right now, and that was...a blessing. A rarity he couldn't afford to ignore. He was relaxed around Sebastian, comfortable, and happy - things he hadn't been in a long, long time until Sebastian came along. He hoped he never went away, ever.


	16. Afterglow

**taggianto:**

"Of course," Sebastian found himself saying between kisses. "Of course you can stay." As if he had the heart to kick the man out of his bed after that. Come the morning, he would have to face what exactly this meant, for them, for himself in particular, but right now, with lazy kisses and soft moonlight glow, right now everything was fine.

Sebastian ran his hand through Jim's hair, just feeling the softness there. "I gotta take care of some things first though," he said after a few more minutes of lazy kisses. Reluctantly he pulled out of Jim's grip, lingering kisses as he did so, sliding off the bed and toward the bedroom door. "Be right back," he said before sliding out into the hall toward the bathroom.

Staring at his reflection as he brushed his teeth, Sebastian ran through the last few hours in his mind. Jesus, Jim hadn't been kidding when he said he wouldn't be bored. Although, this hadn't been exactly what he thought he'd be signing up for.

At least he'd gotten to shoot someone today.

Taking care of a few other things, Sebastian finally slipped out of his jeans before heading back toward the bedroom. The time for being bashful was passed, he thought.

**Ivanattempts:**

Richard smiled as Sebastian gave his permission, relaxing a little more into the kisses. It was sweet, the way Sebastian kissed him - like he couldn't quite bring himself to pull away just yet. When he mentioned leaving, Richard hummed - he didn't want him to go, but knew he'd come back. He'd said he would, after all. He allowed the other to pull free, smiling into the lingering kisses, leaning forward to make the final one last as long as possible. When the man finally left, Richard sat back, breathless.

That...that had really just happened. He and Sebastian had...that had just happened. He brought a hand up to his lips, almost touched them, but decided better of it, dropping his fingers before he did so. Shifting on the bed, he moved the covers, disheveled from their activities, and flushed a little, crawling under them. There was a warm, happy feeling in the pit of his stomach, extending up, all the way to his heart, and he flushed a little. It was...an odd feeling, a wonderful one, but one he didn't dare put a name on just yet. No, no, that would be silly, but he was just...

He was so _happy_.

Richard looked down at himself, thoughtfully remembered the woman in the grocery store. How? How had someone like him garnered the attention of someone like Sebastian? Why hadn't the man simply turned him down? He could have. Richard wasn't like Jim, not that Sebastian knew the difference. He was struck, again, with the urge to tell him. To let him know the truth. He should, before this went too far, before...

Well...it could at least wait until morning. He didn't want to ruin this, this warm, happy glow. Yes, it could wait just a little longer. He settled in and waited for the other man to make his reappearance, hair tousled, a sleepy, happy warm on his lips.

**taggianto:**

As Sebastian rounded the corner back into the bedroom, he couldn't help but smile at the Jim shaped lump curled up in his bed. Must be the exhaustion talking. Or the post-orgasmic haze. Or something. Sebastian couldn't really think straight right now.

Tossing his jeans into the hamper in the corner, Sebastian slid onto the bed. He crawled on his hands and knees before dropping a kiss to Jim's forehead, the only part of him that was visible above the covers.

"Hey Jim..." he whispered, "Jim, you still awake?" He slipped between the covers and brought one arm around Jim's waist, pulling him close and running a hand along the soft cotton of his tshirt.

**Ivanattempts:**

Richard stirred slightly at the kiss to his forehead, just peeking his head above the covers to look sleepily at the man. He smiled at his return, moving willingly when Sebastian moved to pull him closer, tiredly sliding his arms up to slip around his neck, toying softly with his hair. "Mhmn..." Words were a little beyond him at the moment, but he happily shifted closer, until he was lying chest to chest with the other, resting comfortably there.

He liked that, liked the way Sebastian's hand slipped along his back - it was soothing, just made it that much easier to relax. He tipped his head to press small, soft kisses along Sebastian's jaw, still playing slightly with his hair. God, he couldn't remember the last time he'd been so comfortable, and Sebastian was so warm...It was hard not to simply drift off, but if Sebastian had something to say, he wanted to be awake for it.

**taggianto:**

"Jim, I..." What? What did he want to say? Thank you? I'm sorry? Sebastian could tell that Jim was drifting off and he pressed one final kiss to Jim's lips. "Good night," he whispered instead, gathering him in his arms and watching Jim, the rise and fall of his chest, his eyes half-lidded in the moonlight.

So much had happened. So much had changed, for himself especially. So much... that could wait until tomorrow. Right now, he was warm, he was tired, he'd just had frankly the best sex he'd had in a long, long time, and right now he just wanted to fall asleep with Jim in his arms.

Let tomorrow bring what it may.


	17. A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

**Ivanattempts:**

The next morning brought Jim waking with the sun, a little sore, and very disoriented. Very warm, and very comfortable, and that was unusual, highly unusual. He didn't open his eyes just yet, just in case. He felt... breath, warm, against the top of his head. His own nose was buried against someone's throat. He was... being held. A feeling he wouldn't let himself admit was rather pleasant. Not just held... nearly cradled. Cuddled.

What had Richard _done_?

Carefully, very carefully, he stirred, quiet as a mouse, eyes cracking open. Sebastian. He'd suspected as much.

Well, that was entirely more acceptable. Everything was going according to plan then. Still, he'd rather not simply _stay_ like this. Or, at least, he told himself such. He had work to do, after all. How long had he given up control? Too long. Had Richard been keeping tabs on his phone? Speaking of, where _was_ his phone? It certainly wasn't in his pocket. His movements were slow, careful. He didn't want to wake the man just yet, wasn't ready to deal with him. Not on the bed anywhere directly around him. Wonderful. So he had to go hunting through the flat for it, of course he did. He had to do everything himself.

_'s in the room..._

The sleepy voice had him rolling his eyes, and he fought back an exasperated sigh. That meant he _hadn't_ been keeping up with it.

_Did you have fun last night?_

It was an actual curiosity. He could feel something reluctant tugging at him. Oh. So he _had_ enjoyed it. Not just enjoyed it either, it seemed. Curiouser, and curiouser. Someone was getting attached.

_He doesn't love you._

Richard didn't respond to that, but he felt a pang, an unhappy stirring in his stomach, something a little sick. For once, he wasn't sure if it was Richard's reaction, or his own. Furious with that thought, he slid silently out of the bed, padded his way to the door - one last glance to Sebastian and he was opening the door. There was a reluctance to leave that wasn't his own, and it made him only more eager to escape. He eased out of the door, and closed it quietly behind himself. There. Right. Now that that was over, he straightened himself out, fixed his sloppy clothes, ran his fingers through his hair, smoothing it down some. He needed a shower - his stomach felt slightly sticky, and he didn't much want to think about that, especially not when he felt a sudden, sleepy rush of embarrassment from Richard - but first things first, he needed to get to his phone.

To the bedroom, quietly inside, snagging up the discarded jeans and diving his fingers into the pocket, fishing out the device. Low on battery, but it would live through his checking it. Jim thumbed it open, frowning softly.

[1 New Voicemail][1 Missed Call][6 New Messages]

...bloody fantastic. If Sherlock had bothered to call, that meant something had been urgent. He didn't bother with the voicemail, didn't want to hear the man's voice unless he absolutely had to. This was all his fault to begin with. If he'd not triggered Richard that first time, the other never would have had to be involved. They could have gotten through all of this without him ever having to have really even known, or been involved, or to have _slept with the bloody sniper_.

_We didn't-_

"Quiet. I did say you could play with him, hmn? Playtime's over now, Richie. I'm working now."

Jim didn't feel like having _that_ argument just now, and Richard thankfully subsided - he was sitting on the bed now, Jim could see him, but didn't acknowledge him, not yet. He looked through the messages, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. Right. Well, Sebastian would be pleased.

"Are you going to send him away?"

"I'm going to make him earn his pay."

"But you haven't paid him ye-"

Jim moved over to a drawer and pulled out a rather thick envelope, waving it at Richard. That quieted the man.

"He wouldn't stick around if I didn't pay him."

Richard looked ready to protest, but bit his lip, seeming uncertain. Jim smiled, moving over, pressing a lightly kiss to his forehead.

"Don't look so down. I'm taking care of things. Enjoy spending time with him, but don't be hurt if he turns on you. Animals usually will."

"He's not an animal!"

The outburst surprised Jim, and he frowned tightening his fingers on Richard's chin - not hard enough to hurt, but enough to give warning. Richard cringed, but seemed to understand his mistake, and Jim released him, sliding his fingers down his cheek softly, terribly softly.

"...you've become so insistent on not listening to me lately, when all I do is try to make your life better." Tutted softly, those fingers moving from bruise to bruise - 'not listening' punctuated by his fingertips brushing the bandage, 'better' by those fingers sweeping across the fresh marks left by Sebastian. Richard blanched a little, looking uncertainly to the side.

"I-I'm sorry, I just..."

"What, you fancy yourself in love with him already? You don't even know him. He doesn't even know your name."

"He could."

Richard realized his mistake a second too late to keep the words from tumbling from his lips. He cringed as if worried Jim might hit him. What was more frightening was that the blow never came.

"...you want to tell him, Richie? Tell him. See how well he takes it. Maybe he'll react like the girl who spit in your face? Or like our _mother_?"

Richard paled, drew back as if Jim _had_ hit him.

"Stop." Whispered, terrified.

"Oh? Don't want to hear that? Now, would you rather hear it from me, or from him?"

"Please don't."

"He'll say it, Richie. Just like everyone else does."

"N-no..."

"He's going to call you-"

Richard was saved by the buzzing of the phone, trying to alert them to the fact that it was dying. Jim glanced at it, then glanced at Richard, and sighed.

"Do what you like. But don't say I didn't warn you." Jim kissed him on the forehead once more, and moved to the bathroom to take a shower.

**Taggianto:**

The sun through the window in his room is what woke him, and Sebastian was stretching, arms reaching across the bed to... nothing.

Oh.

That was never a good sign.

Suddenly the events of the night before came rushing into Sebastian's mind and he found himself curling into a ball beneath the covers. Had they actually... had he... and Jim had... they'd... and now he'd woken up alone. Terribly alone.

Sebastian just wanted to spiral in on himself and curled into a tighter ball. Maybe if he tried hard enough, he'd simply disappear. Fuck. Shit. God motherfucking damnit. What the _hell_ had gotten into him last night?

_You enjoyed it,_ a small voice said in the back of his brain. _And he did too._

"Shut up," Sebastian murmured into the sheets at nothing in particular. With a frustrated groan, he forced himself up and out of the bed. No use moping like a teenager beneath the covers. He was a grown fucking man. More than that, he was a fucking soldier, a sniper, a trained killer, an assassin. Stoic, cold, emotionless, brutal. He didn't have a heart.

So why was there an ache in his chest?

Shaking his head violently to clear the thoughts from his mind, Sebastian headed out into the hall. He could hear water running at the other end of the flat - so that's where Jim had gotten to. In the shower, probably washing off the... anyway. Maybe that's all Jim'd needed. A shower. That's why he'd gotten up... without waking Sebastian... and left him... alone... in his bed... Yeah. Sebastian made his way into his own bathroom to take care of the morning business, then it was out to the kitchen to find something to eat.

**Ivan**

While Jim showered, Richard remained seated in the bedroom. For that, Jim was thankful, though he'd never admit as much. He needed time to sort things out now that he was awake again. Okay. So, Richard had successfully wormed his way into the sniper's bed. Knowing Richard as intimately as he did, he knew the man wouldn't have done that unless he felt something for Sebastian - even if he wasn't ready to call it what it was yet - and had some hope of reciprocation. So then - what did that mean for Sebastian? Did the sniper feel the same way? Jim stood under the water, let it roll over his body, washed himself thoroughly.

This had gotten infinitely more complicated now that Richard was involved. He couldn't let Richard fall for Sebastian, not completely, couldn't let the man make him feel too at ease. Then Richard might decide...

No, that was nonsense. Richard would always need him.

Still, it was better to be prepared. And prepared he was-preparedness had gotten him what he wanted so far. He simply had to keep reminding himself that this was all part of the plan. The revised plan, but part of the plan nonetheless.

As things stood, he would need to adjust his behavior, since it seemed Richard was incapable of doing so. A necessary evil. He had to keep Sebastian where he wanted him-and that would mean letting Richard do as he pleased more often than Jim liked.

The things he did to come out on top.

When he decided his shower was finished-and a rather long shower it was - he stepped out, vaguely dried himself off, and draped the towel around his hips. He would get dressed, eventually, but not just yet.

He was still rather admiring the marks left behind from last night...Besides, judging from the sounds in the kitchen, he had someone to greet.

_Wonderful._

Jim didn't stop by the bedroom-Richard would show up eventually, he was sure; instead, he moved down the hallway in his towel, until he stood at the edge of the kitchen.

Sebastian. His tongue danced over the word behind his teeth, but didn't let it escape. And Richard, ever so fond of him...there was a bitterness in the back of his throat. What right did he have to make Richard disobey him? To make him question him? Infuriating.

And intriguing.

Jim could never quite be Richard, just as Richard could never quite be him; but for once, he tried, softened his features just the slightest bit - his eyes were calculating though, as if his mind was never still, always running several trains of thought at once. "Good morning, Sebby..." Softer than his usual tone, but still not Richard. He really must work on that.

"Did you sleep well?"

Jim stepped in, moved closer, leaned up to press a kiss to Sebastian's cheek. This was...odd. A sweet sort of gesture, one he'd ordinarily not offer. Richard better appreciate his efforts to maintain their... _relationship_.

"I slept...wonderfully."

**Taggianto:**

Sebastian set about chopping the potatoes for breakfast a little more harshly than was strictly necessary. He was fine. He was perfectly fine. He was more than fine, he was great. He was just... he was fine. Concentrate on making breakfast and not chopping a fucking finger off in the process.

The man was an enigma - he was completely baffling and Sebastian was completely baffled. Last night he'd been so sweet, so concerned about him, to the point of not even worrying about himself... he'd put Sebastian first above everything. He was sweet, he was kind, he was considerate and soft and expressive and wonderful and warm...

But something was nagging in the back of Sebastian's mind. What had happened the man he'd been hired by? It was like they were two different people. I mean, yes, people had mood swings and people were complex but still.. something was off here and the more Sebastian thought about it, the uneasier he became. There had been times where Jim had seemed utterly baffled by things he'd just been talking about... and vice versa. Out of his depth and then suddenly absolutely in control of everything.

He'd heard of things like this before, on television where-

The sound of Jim's voice behind him nearly had him jumping out of his skin. As it was, he dropped the knife and several pieces of mutilated potato to the floor. He'd been so lost in his mind he hadn't even heard when the shower had stopped running.

_Okay, regain your composure, here._ "Y'know, I think I prefer when you call me 'Bastian, babe." Could he still call him babe? Now that they were out of the bedroom and unmasked by the haze of the night? Oh well, nothing for it now.

He turned to see Jim in nothing but a towel and fuck the man was gorgeous... He allowed his eyes to roam across the various marks on Jim's body, still guilty about the ones left by the attack but oddly proud of the fresh bruises he'd put there himself. But there was that nagging feeling in his mind again. Jim was standing straighter, his words were soft but his eyes were hard. Sebastian frowned slightly but quickly recovered at the kiss to his cheek. That was nice at least.

"Yeah, I slept... uh, fine..." _Don't complain about waking up alone don't complain about waking up alone don't complain..._ "Just a little cold this morning, that's all." _Well fuck, so much for playing it cool..._

**Ivan**

So jumpy. Whatever has him so nervous? Surely not Richard. It was...almost suspicious. Guilty. Jim tucked that away for later. His eyes slid to the potatoes that Sebastian had dropped. Clumsy. No - Sebastian wasn't clumsy, he knew better than that. Also tucked away for later. He was thinking about something that made him nervous then. His eyes slid back up. Something, if Jim was right-and honestly, when was he ever _wrong?_ \- about him.

And then the words sank in.

'Bastian? _Babe?_

Oh for the love of-

"...of course." But he didn't say the pet name; it was Richard's, no doubt the man would pout if he started using it. Sebastian... _preferred_ that name? Jim had given him any number of names. Why was it Richard's that he was so fond of?

Not that it mattered, really. Curiosity, that was all, and it would be dismissed as such. Just an idle curiosity. But oh, it was hard not to smirk as the other looked him over-and Richard had said he wasn't an animal. He couldn't tell the difference. He'd look at either of them that way. No one ever differentiated between them. No one even tried.

No one ever bothered.

As if Richard would go wandering around like this, shy as he was. He'd no doubt try to wrap the towel around himself as a woman might, hiding as much of his body as possible-in fact, Jim knew he would. He'd seen him do it. The pizza delivery boy hadn't known what to think.

Jim leaned down, picked up the knife, but left the potatoes, and ran his thumb gingerly across the blade, before offering it up to Sebastian once more. The mention of waking up cold almost made him snicker. So. Richard wasn't the only one getting attached.

It took everything in him not to snark about not being allowed in Sebastian's room.

"Mn..." Ugh, did he really _have_ to apologize?

_Yes._

Richard walked in, moving over to the bar stool. Jim did his best not to look at him, but he couldn't cover his ears-not that it would matter even if he could.

_Apologize, Jim. I would have stayed there with him._

_Yes, yes, I am well aware. You would have been perfectly content to cuddle all day, but both he and I have work to do._

_Well, you should still apologize._

_Will it shut you up?_

_Maybe for a bit._

There was something kind, something almost playful in that, a tone Jim hadn't heard from Richard in a long time, especially not directed at him. It surprised him, but he refused to let that show, ignored the warmth he felt threatening to flood his cheeks.

"...I'm sorry. I needed some time to myself."

Richard was admiring Sebastian, swinging his legs, looking at the both of them with a light, happy smile. He...sure was something when he smiled a genuine smile. It made Jim smile as well, mostly to himself - it was as close to Richard as he would probably ever look. He didn't even register the motion, didn't really realize he was doing it. He didn't behave in such a sentimental way. Didn't show things like that.

Which reminded him, he needed to brief Sebastian on-

_After breakfast._

_You can't be serious._

Jim was exasperated, and the smile slowly faded. His eyes slid briefly towards Richard, who was nodding and gesturing vigorously.

_After breakfast!_

Jim's eyes slid back to Sebastian, the man preparing breakfast.

Cooking for them.

_...after breakfast._ He conceded. _He had better be a damn good cook, Richie._

_I bet even_ you'll _like it, Jim._

And there was that note again...twice in one morning. It was a bit like seeing the sun for the first time in years - warm, delightful... blinding, overwhelming.

**Taggianto**

Sebastian took the knife with a small, apologetic smile. Fuck, things just seemed to be so awkward right now. Well, he really should have suspected that. And then it almost looked like Jim was blushing, a slight flush on his cheeks. He'd needed some time? O... kay... Of the two of them, Sebastian really would have put his money on _himself_ being the one that needed some time alone... and yet he had woken up wanting to feel the man in his arms. Wanting to kiss his sleepy face, wanting to see the way his features would have looked through half-lidded, hazy eyes.

No, Sebastian wasn't that lucky, apparently.

Jim was smiling that easy smile of his though, not quite as intense as it had been but still, it put Sebastian at ease a bit and he reached out, running his hand up Jim's arm. His skin was still warm and damp from his recent shower, a wonderful feeling, and Sebastian set the knife down on the counter to rest both of his arms on Jim's shoulders now. He was about to lean in and kiss the man good morning properly when Jim's eyes were sliding away from him and the smile was fading.

What was he looking at? The breakfast bar... or... or the door? Uh. He suddenly felt quite a bit awkward and Sebastian dropped his arms, almost clearing his throat out of embarassment, but he caught himself. He couldn't stop the tips of his ears from flushing red however.

"So. Um. Pancakes?" Sebastian asked, turning his attention back to the half-chopped potatoes on the counter. He bent over to retrieve the fallen spuds, tossing them into the side of the sink with the garbage disposal to be taken care of later.

**Ivan**

Fingertips along Jim's arm. Richard looked...surprised. As if he hadn't expected that; it startled the smile from his face, brought something uncertain to light.

Something like relief hit Jim, and he was himself again, the warmth from Richard's smile gone. He tipped his head to look up at Sebastian again - oh, he felt awkward now, didn't he? Look at how red his ears were.

_...kiss him._

_Richard-_

_Kiss him! You're making him feel bad!_

It was very rare that Richard ever tried to tell him what to do, and he nearly blanched, nearly rounded to yell at the man. He caught himself at the last second, and he saw Richard lean forward on the bar some.

_...you don't really want me to do that._

_I do if it will make him feel better._

_You're too soft-hearted._

All the same, Jim would try. Only for Richard would he try. Besides, he'd been interested in the man too, right? Not as... _romantically_ , but. He touched Sebastian on the arm, trying to smile. "Sorry. My mind was elsewhere." So many apologies. He'd rarely apologized this much, to anyone.

Leaning forward, he touched Sebastian on the chin, made him turn his head, and leaned up to kiss him, harder than Richard would have, but gentle by his own standards. It was...strange. His body knew the feeling, but he did not - he revelled in it for a moment, stroked a thumb along his jaw.

He heard Richard shuffling awkwardly, and pulled back a moment later, turning some.

_Pancakes?_

_Oh, don't start that, you like pancakes._

"...pancakes are fine."

Slowly, Jim walked around to join Richard at the breakfast bar. He _could_ go get dressed, but that would require effort. Richard looked over at him, then back at Sebastian.

_...he's something._

Dreamy. Jim did his best not to frown, but slid one hand down, off the bar and out of sight, catching Richard's and twining their fingers.

_That he is._

A threat.


	18. Pancakes

**taggianto:**

At the touch to his jaw, Sebastian's eyes widened slightly, and then Jim was pulling him into a kiss and it was... god, it was nice and comfortable and just slightly heated, which Sebastian was embarrassed to think about. "Thanks," he managed to say after Jim had pulled away. It was reassuring, just that little touch. A reminder of the night before, it helped to dispel quite a bit of the awkwardness of the morning light.

Shaking his head to clear it slightly, Sebastian turned and began pulling ingredients from the various cupboards in the kitchen as Jim took a seat at the breakfast bar. "Buckwheat, buttermilk or spice?" he asked over his shoulder.

**Ivanattempts:**

Thanks? What kind of response was that to a kiss? Bloody ridiculous, this whole affair was. Jim kept a rather neutral expression, humming at the question and shrugging slightly. "Surprise me." He murmured. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Richard move, and he turned his head slightly, eyes sliding to look him over. What in the world was he doing?

Richard, as it happened, was rubbing his thumb over his lower lip, as if he'd been the one to kiss Sebastian. He was...blushing, seeming embarrassed to have watched it, despite the obvious reasonings behind that being incredibly silly. He...really seemed to have it bad for the sniper. While some attachment was good, was what he had wanted, he certainly didn't want...

But, he was jumping to conclusions. It was one night. One night, and nothing had happened that was irreversible. Jim could still wreck this relationship if he wanted to.

Did he want to?

Ah, now there was the question. The man's head began to sway slowly in thought, side-to-side, and that finally brought Richard's attention from the man cooking. He curled their fingers a bit more tightly together, offering Jim a smile. Jim blinked a little, turning his head to look at him, and then at their hands.

Richard seemed so...happy.

This had been so simple. So very simple. Richard had been content to stay out of it. But now...Damn Sherlock. He'd pay for this. He'd pay deeply for this.

**taggianto:**

There was a lightness to Sebastian's movements about the kitchen now that he'd had Jim dispel much of his apprehensions about the night before. He smiled over at Jim as he began cracking eggs into a large mixing bowl, a slight flush to his cheeks. For fuck's sake, he was like some schoolgirl with a crush.

"So what's on the agenda for today?" he asked as he measured out flour from a container. They didn't seem to have any nutmeg or ginger, so the spice pancakes were out. Shame, those were his favorites, his own personal recipe. Buttermilk it was then. Maybe even some chocolate chips too, since he was in a good mood this morning.

He squatted down to dig through the bottom cupboards, searching for a suitable pan. "Aha!" he cried in mock-triumph when he surfaced with a cast-iron griddle. "Excellent for making pancakes and dispelling with would-be intruders," he said with a grin.

**Ivanattempts:**

...this was the man he'd hired to protect him?

He was doomed.

Richard seemed to sense his waning patience and squeezed his hand gently again, offering him a smile that said it all: Be nice, Jim. Play nice, Jim.

The things he did for his other half. When Sebastian smiled at him, he forced himself to smile back; when asked about the agenda for the morning, he thought to bring up the work, but a quick prod to his ribs from Richard's elbow made him reconsider, and he simply remained silent. Richard seemed fascinated by the man's joy, and Jim supposed he could understand why-it must be rather charming to know he had caused the other such a simple happiness. Richard always had been so terribly easy to please.

He couldn't help a touch of snark when the pan appeared though, and he raised his eyebrows, smirking some. "I think I would be willing to pay a decent sum of money to see you fend off an intruder with that someday." By which, of course, he meant he might just hire someone willing to take a pan to the face in order to watch such an event. It didn't make any difference to him whether it was orchestrated or not, so long as it happened.

Richard was positively enthralled. Sebastian seemed so...so happy! Had he done that? Was that smile because of him? It warmed him, inside and out, to even consider the notion, and he was blushing as well, glancing shyly away, as if he'd forgotten that Sebastian couldn't see him right now. Then again, it was becoming harder and harder to remember that...maybe it was because he hadn't been taking his-

Fight off intruders with a pan? Richard giggled helplessly, trying to stifle it with the hand not currently holding Jim's. Sebastian was so wonderful!

**taggianto:**

"Never underestimate the power of a skillfully wielded kitchen implement," Sebastian said with a twirl of the pan before setting it on a burner and lighting the gas beneath. He combined the last of the ingredients as the pan warmed, slapping a pat of butter on both the griddle and another pan for the potatoes.

"Y'know, if we're not up to anything this afternoon we should look into planning a running route. Work off these carbs. Not that we didn't get a work out last night, of course." Oh god, could he joke about that? He turned his full attention back to the simmering food, a tad embarassed.

**Ivanattempts:**

"Underestimating? No, no. I was merely saying I think it would be rather amusing to see, is all." Jim was glancing back to Richard-after all, he had little to no interest in the actual cooking process-when he heard the next words. He fell silent, eyebrows rising, and he heard Richard let out a choked, embarrassed noise, flushing a new shade of red.

...well, there was no reason he couldn't have fun with this as well.

"Hardly. That was more akin to a warm-up than a work out." The smirk on his face was clear in his tone, and Richard, was wide eyed, staring at him incredulously. What was he /doing/? "If you want to call it a work out," he continued, ignoring Richard's frantic squeeze at his fingers, "then we should try something more strenuous next time." And God, his voice was /dripping/ with suggestion.

Richard was hiding his face in his one free hand, seeming prepared to crawl under the breakfast bar and attempt to disappear. But, Jim was just keeping his promise-no talk of work until after breakfast. And if Sebastian insisted on asking about their plans for the day, he would just have to continue to steer the conversation elsewhere until breakfast was over. He'd /hate/ to make himself into a liar.

**taggianto:**

Oh god, Jim's tone was just going straight to his cock. He couldn't help it though, the playful innuendo was just too much fun to pass up. He ladeled two perfect circles onto the sizzling griddle and turned to face Jim, a sly smile on his lips. "I don't know, you seemed rather /breathless/ last night, might need to work on your stamina."

He licked his lips subconsciously before deliberately stretching his arms above his head, causing the soft cotton tshirt he was wearing to inch just slightly above the waist of his pyjama bottoms. With a satisfied little sigh, he grabbed a handful of onions and added them to the pan with the potatoes.'

**Ivanattempts:**

The banter was good-this was more his comfort level, not any of that silly, sappy romantic nonsense. He never had been one to really tiptoe around what he wanted, and he had a point to make to Richard, one that might be rather painful to the man, but necessary all the same...

At least, that was what Jim kept telling himself.

"Practice makes perfect, as they say. It is something we could work on." Jim was practically purring, chin resting on the back of his hand as he watched the man now; he seemed much more interested in the other now, and he was unashamed in the way his eyes swept along Sebastian's body when the man stretched. He was reminded, not for the first time, of their game via texts, and he wondered if, after he sent Sebastian away, it would be easier to coax him into it a second time. He just might do that. Hell, he might even let Richard send stupid cuddly messages after. It wasn't like he cared.

His eyes had lingered on that strip of skin, and he found himself with the near irresistable urge to press his mouth to that strip of skin, found he already knew what it would feel like, what it would taste like...

Wait, why did he know that?

His eyes flicked to Richard, who seemed to be drowning in his embarrassment. Ah, right.

He gave Richard's hand a comforting squeeze, smiling a little.

_I'm only teasing._

_I know, b-but..._

_Shh. Everything is alright. Just relax. I'm going to take care of us, remember?_

There was a hesitation that he didn't like, and then a nod.

_Of course, Jim._

**taggianto:**

"The key to any successful exercise regime is repetition and routine," Sebastian said with a wink before flipping the pancakes over. "We could continue our lessons after breakfast if you'd like."

He chuckled to himself, then took a slightly deeper breath to clear his head a bit. Seduction this early in the morning when he'd just had amazing sex (was that what he was calling it? well it was, he supposed it was) the night before was causing twitching in regions he really didn't want to be twitching right now.

At least, not until he'd gotten some food in his stomach.

Sliding the pancakes off the griddle and onto two plates with potatoes he made his way over to the breakfast bar.

**Ivanattempts:**

Oh. Well that was a tempting offer.

Richard looked surprised when Jim seemed to mull it over; hadn't he been so insistent on getting work done today? Besides, Sebastian and himself hadn't even done...that yet. Why should Jim get that chance first? That...that wasn't fair! Jim had hardly spent any time with Sebastian at all! He'd barely spoken to him, he'd not so much as kissed him-well, not willingly, anyway.

Jim was still contemplating the offer when he felt it, the sudden wave of resentment, and he blinked in shock; it had his head turning to stare at Richard, confused. What the hell was that all about?

Richard's expression was bewildered, but he seemed to catch on very quickly to what had happened, and he flushed deeply, placing a hand over his mouth as if the feeling were a sentence he wished he could take back.

Jim's only response was a slight frown. That was...unexpected. He would have to have a serious talk with Richard later. For now...When Sebastian approached, Jim was unwittingly sitting in the seat that Richard had absolutely refused to sit at the day before. He looked at Sebastian and allowed the smirk to slip back onto his face. He and Richard could have a talk after Sebastian left. "After breakfast? My, my. Someone is looking to get an early start on the day, hmn?"

**taggianto:**

Sebastian slid a plate to Jim, grabbing a bottle of syrup from the fridge on the way. He was a little confused as to why Jim was suddenly staring off into space and frowning. "You okay?" he asked as he sat on one of the stools beside him. Their elbows weren't knocking together this morning, seeing as Sebastian was sitting on the opposite side this time, but he couldn't decide if that was better or worse. Either way, he dug into his pancakes with a fervor. He hadn't realized how incredibly hungry he was until just now.

He couldn't really come up with a proper comeback for Jim's latest remark, so he just applied himself to his food. As he ate, his knees slowly drifted toward Jim until their thighs were resting together. It was nice, that shared warmth. God, so much had changed in just one night.

**Ivanattempts:**

If this scene got any cuddlier, Jim thought he might just lose the breakfast he was about to eat. The brush of Sebastian's thigh against his brought the immediate instinct to pull away, but he forced himself to remain still. He could do this. It was just a little while longer, and then the man could be off, and he'd have some time to bloody well breathe, and think, without these two lovebirds breathing down his neck.

To eat, Jim had to disentangle his and Richard's fingers, bringing his hands out of his lap and up to his plate, quietly beginning to eat. It was...decent, he supposed. Enough to impress Richard, yes, but not enough to impress him. But it wasn't...terrible or anything, he supposed. A bit of motion caught his eye, and it took a conscious effort to keep from turning his head to watch as Richard slid off of the bar stool, and circled around to sit next to Sebastian instead. He reached out, hesitantly, seeming to want to touch Sebastian, but paused and retracted his hand. And though Richard didn't comment, Jim knew why-it was on instinct that he didn't complete the action. If he were to touch Sebastian, and Sebastian were to fail to react, Richard would have to face a lot of things he wasn't ready for. Of course, Jim wouldn't have let that happen. He would have stopped Richard even if he'd had to cause a major scene to do so.

No, he wanted Richard off those damn pills for a reason. He ate a bit more of the food, but as he had at the restaurant, didn't eat very much; less than Richard had, at any rate. Richard was peering around Sebastian, looking at him expectantly.

Ah, right.

"...that was...good. Thank you."

**taggianto:**

Sebastian glanced from Jim to his barely-touched plate and back at his words. The man had a fickle appetite, that was for certain. "Anytime," he said, finishing everything on his plate. He hesitated for a second, then reached across and stole a bite from Jim's plate. Best not let it go to waste after all. He let his hand brush Jim's arm as he did so, nudging his thigh with his knee at the same time.

This was nice. It'd been so long since he'd had a truly domestic moment with anyone. "So," he said, stealing another bite. "We gonna get our exercise in? Or are there other plans on the schedule for today?"

**Ivanattempts:**

Jim was still considering it. It was certainly a hard offer to turn down.

It was the look on Richard's face, behind Sebastian, that settled it; he looked downright petulant, pouting, and Jim knew that if he fucked Sebastian first, he'd never, never hear the end of it. Nope. Not even the prospect of sleeping with the sniper was good enough to have him risk that. Instead, he shook his head, smiling with a shrug. The smile, to be fair, was a gladness to be rid of the man, but it looked for all the world to be apologetic.

"Afraid I'll have to take a raincheck on our exercise. We-or more specifically, you-have work to do today." Jim slid off the bar stool, making his way briefly out of the room. He returned with the envelope he'd shown Richard earlier, filled with bills, and he slid it across the bar to Sebastian. He was all business now, damp, slightly ruffled hair or no. "There's your first paycheck as my bodyguard; a bonus is to be added to that upon your successful return from your first assignment." Jim smiled a crooked smile and looked Sebastian over. "What do you know about Argentina, Sebastian?"

**taggianto:**

Sebastian had to admit he was a bit disappointed as Jim turned his advances down, and that fact was a bit scary. He took the opportunity to clear away the dishes as Jim left the room. He'd just finished scraping the last of the pancakes off the plates into the garbage when Jim returned. He stood on the kitchen side of the breakfast bar and arched his eyebrows at the envlope that was slid his way. Right. Money, a paycheck. That's what he was really here for. To be doing a job.

Honestly, taking a giant envelope of cash after the night they'd just had felt... dirty. Like he was being bought. He quickly stopped that line of thought, but he didn't pick the envelope up regardless. "Argentina? Not much, just that it's hot and really fucking far away," he answered with a slight frown.

**Ivanattempts:**

Jim didn't see the problem with the situation, but Richard seemed to pick up on the notion as well, and he was frowning at the envelope. But, then again, Jim had said...

But if money was really all that was keeping Sebastian around, why wasn't he taking it, counting it? Wasn't that what someone after money would do? It made sense to him, anyway...Richard found himself wanted to tell Jim to stop it. He was liking this game with Sherlock less and less, and he had a sinking feeling that it was only going to get worse. Still, if Jim thought it was for the best...and that had really needed the money...

"With an attitude like that, you're not going to like your first job very much." Jim murmured, almost seeming to be chastising the man, which Richard didn't approve of in the least. Still, he wasn't the one in control, and Jim would do what Jim would do. He never had been able to stop the man when he was really inclined towards something...

"You'll be going there. It's going to be a short, simple trip. You're simply going to overlook negotiations of a forged painting. It's a delicate matter, though, and should anything go wrong, I want my best and brightest on the scene, which, surprise surprise, means that /you/ have been selected."

Perhaps it was cruel of him to send the man away today. The look on Richard's face certainly made it seem so. But not everyone could be nice in the world, and that was something Richard had never learned. "You've got a very nice hotel booked, and you'll be very comfortable for your stay. In, out, and you'll be back home in no time at all."

Why was he working to make it sound so reassuring? He would blame it on the forlorn way Richard was looking at Sebastian-God, one would think he was sending him back off to war with the way Richard gazed at him. As if he might never see him again. Ridiculous-this job was by far one of the least dangerous ones he had for Sebastian, because, oh, he had more in the works, and it only got bloodier from here.

**taggianto:**

"Right then. Argentina. When do I leave?" Sebastian really hoped the answer wasn't 'right now' because... because why? What was holding him back? He flicked his gaze from the envelope to Jim and back, and reached across to the envelope just for something to do. Pulling out one of the two stacks of bills, he absently thumbed through it, not really counting, just looking for something to occupy his hands since he couldn't have a fucking cigarette apparently.

Well, getting away from Jim for a few days might remedy that. It was almost worth flying halfway around the world for that.

"So what exactly do I need to oversee? And how long'll I actually be there?"

**Ivanattempts:**

"Today. This evening, if it pleases you, but earlier is also acceptable."

Honestly, what was with the two of them? Sebastian seemed supremely uninterested in the money he had offered him. Wasn't that why he was here? Wasn't that why he was sticking around? Of course it was. He couldn't have gone on without paying Sebastian. The man would have left, eventually. Jim watched him with a calculating expression, watched the way he handled the money-he didn't seem to even register what it was, much less what it meant for him. That was what he had come here for. That was what he had been so skeptical about Jim being able to give him. Why was he looking at it like it was covered in poison that was seeping in through the pores of his skin?

Richard looked to be in a similar state, but for a different reason. He watched as Sebastian picked up the money, but couldn't analyze the details in the way that Jim did. Sebastian...really was looking at it. He really did want it, didn't he? Maybe...maybe Jim had been right after all. Maybe...

"As I said, it's going to be a simple exchange. I've hired a forged painting, and I need to ensure it gets into the proper hands. A woman is going to pick it up. I've arranged all the details into a folder for you for the ride over, as well as everything you'll need-fake passport, ID, et cetera. Make sure she gets the painting, make sure she doesn't die, and above all else, make sure that painting is kept safe."

Jim mused over the second question for a few moments, then shook his head. "As long as it takes. Likewise, as little as it takes. Come back as soon as it's finished."

That bit was more for Richard's sake than his own, or Sebastian's, but if he didn't say something of the sort, then he'd hear about it the entire time the man was away. "It shouldn't take more than a day or so." The man offered up soothingly.

**taggianto:**

"Right. Well. I better go pack, then." Sebastian  flipped through the cash one more time before stowing it in the envelope, which he left on the counter before heading to his room and closing the door behind.

He could still see the imprint Jim had left in the side of the bed, could still see how he had slept in the ruffles of the sheets, despite having woken up alone. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and forced himself to focus on the situation. Argentina. Right, first things first, research.

There was a small desk in the corner of his room with a brand new laptop sitting, waiting. He booted it up, slightly disturbed by the fact the username the computer had been set up with was "Tiger." He didn't dwell on that though, just opened a web browser and started typing.

Half an hour later, and armed with the knowledge that Argentina really wasn't as hot as he thought it was, Sebastian was ready to start packing. He located a suitcase on a shelf in the walk-in closet and started pulling clothes from various dressers.

**Ivanattempts:**

"Does he really have to go?"

It was softly spoken, aloud now, and Jim twitched. He didn't like that, didn't like when they shared. Especially didn't want it to happen now, not with Sebastian still in the flat with them. It was too easy to get caught, too easy to have a very awkward situation on his hands. Richard, now, was seated on the breakfast bar, looking at the envelope accusingly, as if this entire situation was somehow its fault.

Which, Jim supposed, it sort of was. If it hadn't been for the need of money, if Sherlock and all his funds hadn't showed up, if Sebastian hadn't needed the money, if...if...if...

Well, they could chase that train of thought around all day.

"Yes."

The answer was firm, but Jim didn't leave the breakfast bar. He should, he knew. He should take this to the bedroom, where it would be harder for Sebastian to overhear. To be honest, though, Jim just felt...a little tired. Richard's low mood about the entire situation was getting to him, more than likely, and that was something he did not approve of in the least.

"Why?"

"Because it's his /job/, Richard."

"But-"

"But nothing. He doesn't get paid to sleep with you."

The snapped reply was sharp, harsh. That seemed to shut Richard up, and Jim watched as his cheeks colored with shame. Perhaps it had been slightly cruel to phrase it that way, to make it sound so...insignificant. As if Richard were a whore. Certainly, it seemed the timid man had taken it that way, and he was quiet now, fiddling with his hands. But, Jim wouldn't apologize. Couldn't bring himself to. Instead, he just pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head some.

"He has to go, Richard. It's only for a day or so. You can last that long without him."

Richard didn't answer.

"What, are you not going to talk to me now?"

Silence.

Jim groaned, lifting his eyes to see...

Oh, bloody hell.

Richard was...crying. He could see it, see the tears rolling down his cheeks, could see the way his shoulders shook, could see his expression twisted in an effort to stay silent.

"I'm sorry, Jim."

Jim grimaced, forced himself to look away, because if there was one thing he couldn't stand, it was to see Richard in tears. "Stop crying."

"I'm messing everything up, aren't I?"

"Stop crying, Richard."

"I always mess everything up."

"Stop it. Just stop."

"I'm never any use, all I do is-"

"SHUT UP!"

He was shouting now, holding his head. It gave him a headache, when they fought like this, an awful one. He was shaking, eyes closed tightly so he didn't have to look at the other, didn't have to deal with the sight of him crying, didn't have to face the fact that he was the one who was doing that to him.

Not that he felt guilty. No...he could never feel guilty. It was just the truth, wasn't it? Yes, just the truth...

The truth, as they said, sometimes hurt.


	19. Breaking Point

**taggianto:**

As Sebastian rummaged through the closet in search of a waterproof jacket (hooray for the rainy season), he could hear Jim's muffled voice in the flat. _Must be on his phone, arranging something for the trip,_ he thought, finally locating a pullover rain slicker in a deep burgundy. He emerged from the closet, his arms full of various garments, to hear that Jim's conversation had grown louder.

_Someone was going to end up dead if they weren't careful,_ Sebastian thought with a chuckle. He dumped the clothes unceremoniously onto the bed and started to refold them for packing.

The conversation in the other room was growing ever more heated and clear, and Sebastian was growing uneasy. Was it that same person who had called while they were at the warehouse? The one who'd gotten Jim so upset and distracted?

At the final shouted _SHUT UP_ , Sebastian abandoned the packing and quickly made his way out into the hall. "Jim? What was that all about?" he called as he rounded the corner to see...

Shit.

Oh, Sebastian was _not_ equipped to handle this. "What's wrong? Who was that you were talking to?" he asked, averting his eyes. Fuck, this was awkward. He half wanted to just run over and scoop Jim up into his arms and wipe away those inexplicable tears and yet he just... couldn't. He never had been very good at dealing with the emotions of others.

Several ex-lovers could confirm this in explicit detail.

"Was it that same asshole who called you the other day?"

**Ivanattempts:**

Fuck. He heard the man's footsteps, and both he and Richard turned to look through tear-blurred eyes. Jim grimaced and immediately turned away, too late. Sebastian had seen. Worse, Sebastian had heard.

How the hell was he supposed to explain this?

No, he knew how, and Richard was shaking his head, because he wanted to explain. Always wanted to explain. Jim was so close, _so_ close to snapping at him again, just to get him out of the way, just so that horrible ache would go away, just so he could bloody well stop crying.

Jim wiped viciously at his face. "No one! I wasn't talking to anyone!"

His tone was too defensive, and he knew it, but he hadn't been prepared for this. He was...emotional, a state he never should be in. Logic was hard to maintain when emotions came in to play, and if there was one person who could screw it up for him, it was most definitely the sobbing mess sitting on the kitchen counter.

The same...

Sherlock. He meant Sherlock.

"It wasn't anyone. I wasn't talking to anyone. I thought you had packing to do." Jim was shaking slightly, the smallest of tremors in his shoulders, but he was angry, furious at the tears sliding down his cheeks, not his own, but uncontrollable all the same. His hands were on his face, making his voice come out muffled, miserable. He wanted to ask the man what he had heard, had a sudden, panicked thought that he might have heard Richard's name. But, maybe not...maybe that much was still their little secret.

"Just go pack!"

But his voice shook, cracked slightly, and he gritted his teeth against it, moving towards the hallway. He...should go to his room. He should just go to his room, and go through Richard's pills, and look for the ones that would put them to sleep, if they had any left. He couldn't remember which bottles had been full, or empty...

**taggianto:**

"Jim, I am not going to just go pack. Don't pull this bullshit with me, I heard you talking to someone. Do they have something on you? Are they harassing you? Because just say the word and the fucker is dead, you hear me?"

He took a tenative step forward and held out a hand, hesitating. "Just... stop cr... I mean..." _No, no don't do that Sebastian. You always do that. You don't know how to handle this shit so you just start giving orders. Don't. Not right now. Just..._

He let his hand rest on Jim's upper arm. "You're shaking..." he managed.

**Ivanattempts:**

No. That was an order. He told him to go pack, he should just go pack. Why wasn't he going to pack?

Something like helplessness kept Jim in his place, biting his lip until it was nearly bloodied to keep any telling sounds from escaping. What did he do? He hadn't expected this. He hadn't meant for this to happen. Sebastian should be packing, he should be leaving.

"It's not...it's not what you think."

It was all he could say. Richard was sniffling, staring uncertainly between the two. There was something tense between them, the truth heavy on Jim's shoulders, but he couldn't tell him. Couldn't. He wouldn't understand. No one ever understood.

Jim closed his eyes, turned his face slightly away at the mention of shaking. Fuck, he wished he could stop, but he couldn't seem to, couldn't stop that anymore than he could stop the tears still rolling down his cheeks, now reddened from his wiping of them. Sebastian's touch was...oddly comforting, but he tried not to dwell on that, because...because it wasn't fair to Richard, and he'd made the man cry once today.

He just wanted Sebastian to leave. He wanted him gone, so he could break things, so he could scream, so he could rage the misery away, and then gather himself back up, so he could feel himself again. This weird mix of the two of them had him off-kilter, uncertain and unhappy, shivering, shaking, crying, unable to tell the truth, or a convincing lie.

**taggianto:**

Why was Jim shutting him out like this? After everything... after all that'd happened in the past few days... Fuck. Sebastian was frustrated. One minute Jim was all over him, making him question every fiber of his personal views, making him feel like no one ever had before and the next... nothing. Shut out. Closed off. Barely even responsive to Sebastian's tentative touches. Touches that two days ago he'd never have even tried, and now... to be so completely tuned out...

Sebastian made a noise of frustration and pulled his hand away. Fuck this. If Jim was so eager for him to go pack and get out of the country, then fine. That's what he'd do. "Y'know what? Fine. Don't tell me. You get yourself hurt while I'm gone cuz some asshole's giving you trouble and you didn't tell me, don't come crying to me." With a final glare that was more out of his own feelings of confusion and hurt than anything actually directed at Jim, Sebastian made an about-face and stalked out of the room and back to his own, slamming and locking the door.

Once inside he picked up the nearest object (which happened to be a rather expensive-looking ceramic figurine) and hurled it against the far wall. It shattered into hundreds of tiny, colorful pieces along the top of the dresser beneath. Fuck. This. Shit. He closed his eyes and forced himself to take several deep breaths to calm down. When he opened them again, his face was hardened and he went back to packing with an almost robot-like efficiency.

Lock away your emotion, Sebastian. It only causes you pain.

**Ivanattempts:**

The exchange was utterly horrifying from Richard's vantage point, and Jim could see this, out of the corner of his eye, could see how desperate Richard was to stop this, to tell him, to salvage the situation _somehow_. So desperate in fact, that as the door slammed, Jim was turning against his own will, a slightly panicked "'Bastian!" Leaving his lips in something like a wail.

No. No, that was unacceptable. He immediately wrenched control back, snarling and bringing the back of his hand almost violently against his face. No, he wouldn't give in like that. Richard had to understand. He shot the man a look, a violent look that dared him to try that again, and Richard shrunk away, wide-eyed, terrified. If Jim were more in his right mind, he might feel bad for that, might apologize, might try, with all his charisma and skill in playing people like pianos, to fix things. He didn't. When he heard something shatter against the wall, he stalked out of the room as well, walking to his bedroom and slamming the door behind him. This was a nightmare, an utter nightmare. What was worse was that he had to admit, albeit begrudgingly, that he needed the man to stay. Not right now, he had a job to do, but long term. He needed Sebastian on his side, and Jim had never needed anyone before.

But to pull off the things he was planning, he had to have someone capable at his side, someone loyal beyond compare, and he'd just pissed the only person who fit the qualifications right the fuck off. Smooth move, Jim. He wanted to blame Richard. If Richard hadn't started fussing, if he hadn't started crying, if he hadn't made him shout. Jim moved over to the edge of the bed, sat down on it, and carefully placed his head in his hands-he applied pressure to his temples, as if trying to hold himself together, as if his mind might literally tear itself apart if he let it go. This was too much at once. The plan falling to bits because Richard was such a bleeding heart, Jim having too much of a soft spot for the man to deny him, but too much paranoia to tell Sebastian the truth. No. He had to be strong, because Richard was weak, and there was a reason Richard had needed him in the first place. But now...Now Richard was looking at him differently, looking at him with fear, and resentment, and...

That wasn't fair. Jim had only ever tried to do what was best for them. That didn't always mean playing nice, but it got them what they needed. It was self-preservation, a trait that Richard apparently lacked. He had to keep himself removed from the situation, detached, or he'd lose sight of the game, the goal, and Sherlock would win. Sherlock, who didn't even know they were playing, not yet.

Forget it. Sebastian was a man. He would calm down. He would get over this. Richard would soften him again, and then they could all just forget this had ever happened, and he wouldn't slip up again, wouldn't make the same mistake twice. Sebastian would not catch him crying, would not catch him such a state again. Jim sobered slightly, wiped at his face, and slowly raised his head from his hands. The plan was not ruined. All could still go well. It would just require a bit of tact.

And like that, Jim felt like himself again.

**taggianto:**

He heard Jim call (plead?) his name... his pet name... and for a moment Sebastian almost felt the emotion behind it. He quickly shook his head. Just another fucking game. Like Jim actually cared. Like he ever actually cared. It was just the first night all over again. Riling him up just for fun. For a bit of sport.

Fuck it.

Zip the suitcases closed. Packed.

Okay. Now what.

Sebastian sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the door to his room. Well he certainly wasn't going to let whatever this was with Jim confine him to his room. He was above it. He grabbed his duffel bag and carryon and unlocked his door. He set the bags near the hallway to the front door. "Just tell me when I'm leaving," he called in the general vicinity of Jim's room and flopped onto the sofa. He turned on the telly and quickly switched away from the DVD player input. He flipped around and finally settled on some American action movie with lots of explosions. Whatever.

**Ivanattempts:**

It took a while for Jim to completely regain himself. He stood, slid out of his pajamas, and began to dress himself properly. Never mind that he wouldn't be going out tonight. Never mind that no one would see him like this except Sebastian. That was what he needed. He needed Sebastian to see him calm, in control, not the shaking, crying mess he had been. That was beneath him. That was not who he was. If, one day, Richard slipped up and told Sebastian the truth, then he would need to be prepared to deal with both sides of the coin. Richard wanted to tell him? So be it. They could tell him. When /Jim/ decided he was ready to know. His suit was slipped on with precision, careful fingers pressing the lines, fixing the buttons, twitching his tie. He smoothed his hair carefully down and back, and with a few more adjustments, he felt...better. More at ease with himself. His face was still slightly reddened from the tears, but there was no helping that. It was the only lingering reminder.

Sebastian's voice carried to him, and he vaguely twitched, cocked his head to the side to catch the words. Fine. That was fine. Everything was fine. He slid open a drawer, and pulled out two plane tickets. With a twitch of his lips, he folded one of them in half, and carefully discarded it. That had been a stupid decision to begin with. He hadn't really intended to surprise Sebastian. That would have been sentimental of him. He turned on his heel and walked smartly out of his room, closing the door carefully, quietly behind him. When he walked now, it was with steady, measured steps, and he placed the plane ticket on top of the envelope. "Whenever you please. Your plane departs in a few hours."

His voice was cool and calm once more, and he turned some, walked into the living room, and settled himself in a chair. For once, though, he made no comment on the choice of movie. Made no comment at all. He didn't even seem to really be staring at the TV at all, but more of _through_ it. Right. He and Richard would have to have a talk. A very serious talk. His behavior was, while understandable, irrational and dangerous. This was a precarious situation, and the soft-hearted man was a loose end that Jim couldn't leave dangling, lest they wind up hanged by it. So much to consider, so little time.

**taggianto:**

Sebastian stole a quick glance over as Jim lay what he assumed was his plane ticket on top of the envelope of cash. Right. A subtle reminder why he was here then. Nice, Jim. With a roll of his eyes, he went back to watching the movie. Well, not really watching so much as just kind of staring at it. Jim came and sat in the nearby chair and he was...

Different.

Again.

Fuck.

Gone were the tousled pajamas of the morning. The suit was pristine and it definitely gave Jim a more commanding presence. For the first time in a long time, Sebastian felt he was looking at the man he'd met on that first night. It was enough to run a slight chill in his blood. He took his eyes off of him in what he hoped was a nonchalant manner.

"Right. I should probably get going then. Dunno what traffic's gonna be like or how long security checks will take." Sitting up on the couch he spun to face Jim. "You gonna call one of your mysterious cars or am I taking a taxi?" Sebastian's voice was hard, harder than he really intended but god damn it. He thought he'd had things figured out to some extent. Thought something had changed...

No, don't think like that. Focus on the job.

**Ivanattempts:**

Sebastian was still upset. That much was obvious, of course-and really, what else could Jim expect? No, no, that was fine. Mending time had been added to the plan. Everything was going to be alright. He sat perfectly poised, head cocked slightly to the side as if he found the movie endlessly fascinating-but he still wasn't looking at it, not really. His mind had rebooted and was busy, and he was hardly even registering Sebastian's presence anymore, too caught up. Too many things to account for, too many things to prepare. Right. While Sebastian was gone, he would be making calls, arrangements, getting in touch with contacts he'd found for himself, thanks to Sherlock's lack of supervision over him. Yes.

At the words, his head turned just slightly, not quite enough to look at Sebastian, as if the man didn't have his full attention. For a moment he sat like that, didn't answer, almost as if he were listening to someone else speak-which, for once, was not the case. He was pretty sure Richard was having a breakdown somewhere right about now. Finally, though, very slowly, he turned his eyes to fix on Sebastian, steady, calculating. His lips twitched as he studied the man, as if trying to find something in him that Sebastian might be hiding-but Sebastian wasn't the one keeping secrets, now was he? Jim slipped his phone from his pocket, and a few seconds later, slid it carefully back to its place.

"A car will be downstairs in five minutes."

There was something dismissive in his tone, a undertone of 'you may leave now'. Even he could hear it, and he knew Richard would cringe if he could have heard the near-condescension in the words. Still, he did not take them back, and did not apologize. The closest he came to that was turning his head to look at the telly again, refusing to settle his eyes on the ex-soldier when he spoke this time.

"...do be careful. I want you back in one piece."

It was perhaps one of the most honestly caring things he'd said in a long time, and something about that made his stomach drop. Likewise, he immediately refused to acknowledge he'd said anything at all; and his tone had been soft enough he could pretend he hadn't. Utter nonsense, the lot of it.

**taggianto:**

 Jim sat still as a statue, not even looking at him and that just made Sebastian's blood boil all the more. He was about to snap something out when Jim finally turned to look at him, the full intensity of his features cowing Sebastian slightly. Still he didn't speak, just took out his phone and... finally.

Such a dismissal. The words were cold, and the stung like ice. He set his mouth in a thin line and shook his head slightly. Well if that's how things were going to be, so be it. He pushed himself off the couch and was crossing over to the envelope on the breakfast bar when he heard Jim speak again. Something in his tone this time was softer but Sebastian was too frustrated, he didn't care.

"Don't worry. I know how little boys can get so upset when their new toys get broken," Sebastian spat back, a harsh bitterness in his voice. Scooping the envelope and ticket into one hand from the counter he turned and grabbed his bags, heading out the door before Jim could send some scathing reply back. He might just have clobbered the man if he had.

True to his word, there was a nondescript car waiting outside their building. Tossing his bags in before him, Sebastian climbed into the backseat. He didn't even have to say anything, the car just started off in the direction of Heathrow. Sebastian pulled out his phone and busied himself with more research on the area of Argentina he'd be staying in, as well as going over the information on the job Jim had given him. Anything to keep his mind away from Jim and the flat and last night...

God damn it.

**Ivanattempts:**

The sudden remark caught Jim off-guard, even though it shouldn't have. He twitched, head turning slightly as if he'd just been slapped, and indeed, as Sebastian walked out, there was a look of slight surprise on his face. There was a stirring feeling he couldn't place, couldn't name as he heard the door shut; something sickeningly akin to regret. Jim pressed his lips into a thin line, and smoothed out his already pristine suit, fixed the cuffs again, and shut off that damn telly. It left the flat oddly, eerily quiet, and he frowned softly. He needed to do something, anything, to keep himself busy. What, then could he do? Sebastian had a long flight ahead of him, and wouldn't want to talk to him anyway, he was sure. Right then. The broken pieces of whatever Sebastian had broken in his room. Never mind that the man had said not to go in there. If he were going to invade his privacy, he may as well do it now, when the man was already furious with him.

Jim made his way to Sebastian's room, only to find Richard already there, curled on the bed and looking forlorn.

"You're awful. You weren't always like this. Why are you doing this?"

The accusation hung in the air, and Jim stared at the other, his mirror image, yet so very, very different.

"I'm doing this for-"

"Don't say for _us_ , Jim! This isn't for _us!_ You're not even listening to me anymore. Did you see the way he looked at the money? He didn't even care about it, Jim. You're wrong about him. You really, really are wrong this time."

Jim was surprised. Richard never used to be so strong-willed, never so abrasive, so opinionated; but if there was one thing he could not stand, it was to be told he was _wrong_. His eyes narrowed.

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"You don't know what _you're_ talking about! I've always trusted you, always, but you're absolutely wrong this time!"

"And you're making irrational, illogical decisions based on the fact that he spent one night in bed with you. You don't know the first damned thing about him."

"Neither do you! Stop acting all high and mighty, and just listen to me for a change!"

"Richard, I think-"

"I don't _care_ what you think!"

Richard was on his feet now, and suddenly, _Jim_ was the one sitting on the bed, staring, for the first time, at an absolutely furious Richard, red-faced, tear-streaked cheeks, dressed in _his_ suit. Oh. This was not good.

"Just stop being so selfish and think about someone else for a change, Jim!"

Richard faltered then, Jim saw it, and frowned. The man wrapped his arms tightly around himself and moved over, dropping himself to sit beside Jim on Sebastian's bed.

"...Just...stop it. Stop being...this. Go back to being you. I miss you." It was softer, whimpered, and Jim felt that stirring in his stomach again, cold, sickening regret. Hesitantly, he wrapped an arm around Richard's shoulders, and the man leaned into it. He sighed some.

"...Let's pick up the pieces so Sebastian doesn't step on any of it when he gets home, alright?"

It was a softly spoken compromise to, at least, try. For Richard. The man nodded, and slowly, they shifted to the floor, gathering up the pieces of broken glass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ivanattempts:
> 
> There is something in the way the man moves that gets him every time.
> 
> Jim sees it, but ignores it.
> 
> Richard is absolutely captivated.
> 
> There is an assurance in even the smallest of tasks, a quiet, unconscious confidence. That is why, when Sebastian brushes his teeth, or begins to cook breakfast, or stirs sugar into his tea, Richard can’t help but watch-and he won’t admit it, but Jim is watching too.
> 
> They both stare, breathless, at the flick of Sebastian’s fingers as he turns the stovetop off, the turn of his wrists, the slight flex as he opens a fresh bottle of wine. The twitch of the corner of his mouth as he surveys his work, because while he’s never quite satisfied, he knows this will be good. It always is.
> 
> The meal is good; the time spent after the meal is better, curled together, bodies twined while they pretend to watch a movie. It always starts out with the intention of watching it, but somehow, amidst the changing scenes and quick repartee, they shift, close, closer, until it’s hard to tell where one of them ends and the other begins.
> 
> These are the moments that Richard savors, and Jim won’t admit to enjoying, even though he does-the moments filled with warmth, and lazy kisses. These are the moments that make it worth it, the moments that make everything seem okay, even when it really, really isn’t.


	20. Lead Me Not Into Temptation

**taggianto:**

The car ride to the airport was uneventful and Sebastian passed through security with barely a glance thrown in his direction (most likely Jim's doing, he figured). Then it was a short wait in the terminal before the plane boarded. Jim hadn't even bothered to get him a first class seat, which meant stuffing his 6'2" frame into a seat too small for a normally proportioned person for twelve and a half hours.

He was glad his Browning was in the checked luggage because he didn't know what he'd do if it were in reach.

Luckily, he was one of the first to board the plane and quickly snatched a window seat in the emergency exit row (earning him a whole additional inch of legroom), plugged earbuds into his phone and promptly started blasting his death metal playlist. It wasn't music, it was just loud, angry noise but that was what he needed right then. Just something in his ears to drown out everything else. He stared resolutely out of the window as the rest of the passengers filed into their places. It was a rather crowded flight, and soon his hopes of having the row to himself were squashed. A woman was stowing her bags in the compartment next to his. A very tall woman. A very tall, tan, attractive woman.

A very tall, tan, attractive brunette, he discovered once her bags were successfully put away. She was saying something and motioning with her hands. Sebastian popped one of the earbuds out and gave her a questioning look.

"Sorry! Didn't see you had your headphones in. Mind if I sit here? I'm sure you understand the need for that precious extra few inches of legroom." She smiled a smile that floated up even into her eyes and Sebastian found himself smiling back.

"No problem. I know exactly what you mean." Maybe the flight wouldn't be a disaster after all.

**Ivanattempts:**

The entire cleaning process took entirely longer than necessary - partially because they were taking their sweet time about it, partially because it required moving the dresser, and they weren't exactly the most physically built of people, and partially because Richard managed to cut his hand open. This latest slight disaster had them stopping to clean the wound - because it was open, across his palm and one of his fingers, and it _hurt_ \- and bandaging him up as well as possible. Then again, neither one of them was really a medical expert or anything... Still, it wasn't _that_ bad of a cut, and should heal of fairly quickly. No need for stitches or anything of the like. When all the pieces were finally gathered and disposed of, and the dresser was moved carefully back into place, Richard was suddenly grabbing Jim by the arm, leading him into the kitchen, where he sat him down firmly at the breakfast bar.

"Wait here."

Jim watched, slightly curious, somewhat put out by being told what to do, as Richard rummaged around the kitchen, and finally resurfaced with... a... jar full of gingerbread men? The hell? Richard brought the jar over, and carefully set it down, opening it and digging out three gingerbread men. He laid them down in front of Jim, and when Jim went to reach for one, he slapped his hand away.

"They're not for eating! Pay attention!"

"Not for eating? Then what the bloody hell are they good for?" Richard frowned at him, and Jim barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes, crossing his arms on the table and leaning against it some. "Fine, fine. Go on."

Richard nodded, and pointed to each of the three gingerbread men in turn. "That one on the left there is you. In the middle is me; and at the end is 'Bastian." Jim looked about to protest, but Richard shook his head, hurrying on with his 'lesson'. He moved the right and middle cookies next to each other, pointing at them. "See? Look how happy they are together! Isn't that sweet!"

Jim stared at him as if he'd properly lost his mind.

To continue with his point, Richard moved the middle cookie over to stand beside the left cookie, smiling again. "And they're happy too! Isn't that just great?"

Now Richard took the three cookies, and started to push the three of them together. Naturally, they stopped at each other's edges-but Richard kept pushing. "And now look at the three of them. All yelling and trying to get each others' attention all the time, because there's competition for attention and no one is happy and everyone is yelling and fighting, and then-" With a sudden, rough push, the middle cookies arms snapped, and Richard looked a little sadly at it, pulling his hands away to show the broken gingerbread man, and the two others, slightly damaged as well. He looked up at Jim to see if he'd gotten the point.

Jim had, indeed, gotten the point, and was tight-lipped. It was a childish way of explaining things, but... accurate. Terribly so. His eyes lifted to Richard, who shrugged, and brushed a thumb over one of the cookie's broken arms.

"I just don't want anyone to get hurt," Richard said. Soft, and sweet; concerned.

_And not without reason_ , Jim thought a little grimly.

**taggianto:**

Sebastian only half-listened as the flight attendants gave their safety demonstration, staring out the window at the tarmac of the airport. His row partner was rummaging through the bag she'd stashed beneath her seat for something, finally coming up with a book. Agatha Christie.

"A murder, a mystery, and Agatha Christie," Sebastian found himself saying with a nod to the novel in her hands.

"You a fan?" she asked, smiling. Her smile was warm and infectious, spreading throughout all the features of her face, from the little dimples in her cheeks to the bright green of her eyes.

"I've read one or two." A blatant lie. Sebastian hadn't read a page of Christie in his life, but he knew enough about them to fumble his way through a conversation.

"I adore her." Another one of those smiles. It reminded him of Jim's smile in the chip shop and... No. Not gonna go there.

"There's just one mystery I'm concerned with at the moment," Sebastian said, subtly shifting his posture to face the woman more directly. She raised her eyebrows and shrugged. He went on. "The mystery of your name," he finished with his best, low voice.

She giggled. It was light and airy and it made her cheeks flush with just the slightest hint of pink. "Tricia," she said, toying with a strand of her hair. "And who is the great detective that desired the truth in this mystery?"

"Name's Sebastian," he said, lips twitching in a charming smile. "But you can call me whatever you like." She giggled again.

Oh yeah. This was almost too easy.

**Ivanattempts:**

"I want to talk to him." Richard murmured; the cookies had been left on the counter, and he had grabbed a new one, insisting on not eating any of the ones he'd named, which had made Jim roll his eyes. The man was curled on the couch now, leaning lightly against Jim, who was shaking his head.

"I don't think he'll want to talk to you."

"You mean he doesn't want to talk to _you_."

"He doesn't know the difference, Rich."

Jim sounded tired, rubbing at his face some. Richard turned his head, glancing at Jim as he ate; there were crumbs all over the fine suit Jim had dressed him in, which had his lips twitching. Still, the way he was looking at him...It had him rolling his eyes to the ceiling, shaking his head.

"Fine! Fine. We'll try. You have the phone. Text him. See if he responds. Though, his phone might be off. Plane and all."

Richard hesitated, looking at Jim uncertainly. Finally, he fumbled with it, pulling it out and pulling up Sebastian's number-and the only messages there, a demand for Sebastian to meet him, and the...other messages. He flushed, ignoring them and texting the man quickly.

_'Bastian? -RB_

He nearly sent it, then quickly fumbled, changing the initials to "JM". That would have been a mess. "Maybe we could talk to him later? When he lands?"

Jim stared at him incredulously. "Do you realize what _time_ that will be?"

Richard nodded vigorously. "Yes."

"You're going to wait up anyway, aren't you."

"I want to make sure he gets there okay."

"Richard-"

"Jim."

"Oh fine. Do what you want. I won't stop you."

Richard smiled brightly, and Jim just sighed. This was going to be a longer trip for him than for Sebastian, even, he thought.

**taggianto:**

The flight attendants had finished their safety demonstration and were going around the plane now, making sure everyone had switched their phones either off, or at the very least, to airplane mode. Sebastian's mobile buzzed just as the attendant was approaching their row. One new text. From Jim. He frowned at the screen and switched it to airplane mode without reading the text. He slipped the phone back into his pocket and sat back, ready for takeoff.

The plane started moving and Sebastian stared out the window, watching as the plane lifted from the runway and soon London was shrinking below them.

Right. Sebastian sighed and slipped his earbuds in. He could see Tricia was engrossed in her book in the seat beside him. That was fine. He had twelve hours, no need to rush things.

Six  hours in. The third in-flight movie was starting, some romantic comedy about a man from the past or something. Chick flick. Tricia had stowed her book away and was grinning at the screen.

"Good film?" Sebastian asked, popping the buds from his ears.

She glanced over and smiled. "Oh, not even remotely. It's a horrible movie, but sometimes horrible movies are fun in spite of their campiness. It's amusing, though."

"I've not seen it," Sebastian murmured, shifting just slightly closer. Tricia blushed. She'd noticed, but hadn't done anything about it. Good sign. "What's it about?"

Tricia began eagerly telling him the plot of the movie. He wasn't actually listening to her words, just the sound of her voice. It was soft, and musical, and she gestured widely with her hands as she spoke, her fingers dancing through the air as she emphasized a point, or curling through her dark, brown hair as she tried to think of a character's name. He watched and made appropriate noises in agreement as needed. They settled in to watch the movie, headphones plugged into the seats before them but only on one ear so they could make comments on the cheesiness of the plot.

At one point, the main character picked up a hand gun and was threatening her ex-lover with it. Sebastian huffed out a short laugh. "God, if she actually fires that thing with a grip like that, she's gonna lose a thumb," he said offhand.

Tricia nodded. "Exactly! Not to mention she's still got the safety on. What is that... a Glock 37? That guy could rush her before she could even get the damn thing armed." Sebastian just stared at her, mouth slightly open. Tricia blushed and played with the hem of her shirt in embarrassment. "I uh. My ex taught me to shoot. In the end I loved the guns more than I loved him so..."

Shit, this was just too good to be true.

**Ivanattempts:**

The hours were long, and Richard was restless. He fidgeted, cleaned, put on a movie - Anonymous, of course. Jim rolled his eyes, muttered "of course", but sat with him through it. Neither one of them seemed to be paying attention, though; Richard kept checking the phone, biting his lower lip. "Must you keep doing that? He's not going to respond."

"He might."

"He hasn't yet. Six hours, has it been?"

"Maybe he hasn't checked yet."

Jim looked ready to protest, but glanced over at him and stopped; Richard was staring at the phone, lower lip... trembling? He seemed anxious.

"Planes don't very often just fall out of the sky. I'm sure he's fine."

"But what if..."

"He's fine."

Richard was texting again.

"He's going to think you're desperate if you keep that up."

"I _am_ desperate."

That had Jim blinking, staring at him, mouth slightly agape. "...Richard, you've known him for how long?"

"It's...I know."

"This is pathetic."

"I _know_."

"Then why-"

"Because I _care_ , Jim, and I know that's something you might find hard to understand!"

Richard turned on Jim, and it looked like he might cry for a moment. Jim didn't answer.

"No one's gotten this close to us for ages, Jim. No one. No one sticks around, because you always drive them off. I hate it. I hate being alone all the time."

"You're not alone."

"And you aren't the only person I need in my life."

Jim paled, the words for a moment twisting his expression into something like fear. And then, fury.

"Fine. Do what you want. I'm not doing this with you tonight, Richard. Stay up. Blow up his phone. See how he feels about it."

Jim got up, and left Richard alone on the couch. After a few moments, Richard looked down at his phone, and shot off another message, trembling.

_I hope you're okay. -JM_

**taggianto:**

They spent the next two hours talking guns. Tricia, it turned out, had had some small success shooting in amateur competitions in England and was flying to Argentina for a large amateur competition and expo. Sebastian told her he was ex-army but simply said he was doing night security work at the moment. Close enough to the truth to keep from slipping up too often.

They'd shifted closer together under the pretense of talking in hushed tones to not annoy sleeping passengers. At some point Tricia's knee had rested against Sebastian's thigh and neither had bothered to pull away. God, it was good to just _talk_ to someone without the fear of them suddenly pulling a knife on you nagging at the back of his mind. The subject changed to politics and gun laws next, which had them occupied for another solid hour.

They were comparing the finer points of American and British firearm policies when Tricia's hand very deliberately slid along Sebastian's thigh. Oh, this was good. Sebastian grinned. He loved when they made the first move.

There was a moment of silence as they each checked the other's eyes, then Tricia leaned in and whispered into Sebastian's ear. "You know what I think?" Sebastian made a vague noise in the back of his throat. "I think I could use a restroom break. Care to join me?" she practically purred, pressing a quick kiss to Sebastian's jaw. He shivered in anticipation at the touch.

"Don't mind if I do."

**Ivan**

_Please text when you can. -JM_

Richard fidgeted, restless. The flat seemed quiet, too quiet, big and empty, and he felt... alone. Perfectly alone. He knew Jim was still about, he had to be, but there was a sense of loss without him in sight now, an anxious space in him that missed the man's presence. The movie was still playing, but he couldn't focus on it - not even his favorite part. His eyes slid to the side, to the empty stretch of couch beside him, and he flushed slightly. He could recall, in precise detail, the feeling of the other man's presence, the warmth of his body just out of his reach. He could remember the exact moment when, slightly tipsy, he had leaned against him, and the man hadn't pulled away. The way he'd looked at him. The first, hesitant brush of lips.

It wasn't that Richard didn't love Jim; he loved him deeply and dearly. More than that, he needed him. Wouldn't know what to do without him. But this place - it was empty, the flat was big, and still, and he was cold, anxious. Their old flat was smaller, easier to fill with odds and ends and white noise; more importantly, their old flat had never known Sebastian.

Sebastian.

The man had been in their lives for such a short time, and already, he'd changed so much. Richard held his head in his hands, closing his eyes, rubbing at his face. What was Sebastian doing now? Sleeping on the flight? Watching the movie, listening to music? Was he thinking of him, too?

He didn't want to think of what Jim might say he was doing. Instead, he just curled up on the couch a little, held the phone carefully in his lap, and waited patiently. He'd text back eventually, surely. Richard reached a hand up, mussing the carefully slicked hair, sighing softly. Still, that nervous part of him was nagging, and he couldn’t help but remember the woman in the grocery store.

_What if Jim is right?_

Richard's expression twisted briefly, before he shook his head firmly, expression hopeful.

"He came home with me."

Not that he'd been left much of a choice... Richard swallowed, hard, and his eyes fell to the phone again.

_I'm sorry. -JM_

**Taggianto**

Tricia winked and got up from her seat. Sebastian watched as she sauntered down the aisle, her hips swaying side to side. Glancing around at the other passengers, everyone was either asleep or completely absorbed in their book/computer/video game. Perfect.

Sebastian waited a full minute before getting up as well and heading to the back of the cabin. There were two doors and as he approached, Tricia's hand popped out of the one and beckoned him inside. He grinned, glanced quickly around once more, and stepped inside.

She was immediately on him. The small cabinet was cramped and the handle of the door was digging into the small of Sebastian's back but he didn't care. Tricia's arms were wound around his neck and her kisses were hungry and heated. It was all he could do to just hang on and let her control it. His hands slid down her back, along the curves of her waist and settled just at the waistline of her skirt.

As he kissed her and was (more so) kissed _by_ her he found he was... actually rather disinterested. It was nice... it was always nice to have a hot body writhing against your own but all the same... nothing was happening down south. A fact that Tricia seemed to be coming aware of as her hand pressed along what should have been a bulge in his trousers.

"Need a bit more encouragement?" she teased, grabbing one of Sebastian's hands and sliding it up underneath her own shirt. Sebastian took the hint and teased his way under her bra to squeeze at her breast, flicking a finger across a pert nipple. She moaned at the touch, occupied with undoing Sebastian's belt and trouser zip.

It was... nice. The curves of a woman were certainly more akin to what he was used to and yet...

Fuck.

"I can't do this right now," Sebastian said, pushing her away with a frustrated grunt. She smiled at him, thinking he was just being a tease, but the look faded as she realized he was serious.

Her eyebrows creased in a look of confusion and hurt. "What do you mean?"

Sebastian sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. "I mean I can't... I've... I've got..."

"Oh my god, you aren't married are you?" Tricia's eyes flew from Sebastian's face to his hands and back.

"No, I'm not married..."

"Girlfriend?"

Sebastian shook his head. "No, it's just..."

"Oh god, not a _boyfriend?_ " She narrowed her eyes in a sneer.

Sebastian was about to protest again when he caught the look. He snapped his mouth shut with an audible click and glared at her. "Y'know what? Yeah. I do have a boyfriend." He took a step forward and growled in her face. "And he's a better fuck than you'd ever be, bitch." Zipping up his trousers he stormed out of the bathroom and back to his seat.

Tricia didn't go anywhere near him for the rest of the flight, having found an empty seat near the back. Just as well. Sebastian wasn't sure what he'd have done if she's tried to sit next to him for two more hours.

He shoved his headphones back into his ears and blasted his music, drowning out every noise, feeling and thought. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to think of anything at all.

Once they landed, Sebastian was one of the first people off the plane, glad to be out of the cramped metal box and into the bustle of the airport terminal. He stood by the baggage claim and waited for his duffle bag to appear when he remembered his phone in his pocket. Switching it off of airplane mode he was immediately assaulted by three more texts from Jim. Something pulled in his chest as he read them. Something almost like guilt, but with a layer of reassurance and relief overtop.

_I'm fine. Flight was fine. Everything's fine. -SM_

He sent the text, closed his eyes and sighed. His duffel bag finally slid out onto the conveyor belt and he hoisted it over his shoulder, tapping out another text with one hand.

_I'm sorry too._

Sent.


End file.
